Harry Potter and the New Legend of Snow White
by JakeFL
Summary: Disaster is on the horizion and for once, the Dark Lord has nothing to do with it. Harry Potter must count on the strength of his friends if he wishes to survive.
1. Disclaimer

DISCLAIMER

Jake the Fearless Leader here. Dorky name, I know. I wasn't the one who thought of it. My best friend did. Anyway, this is my first story EVER, so let me take care of the most important part first. Since it would take too much room up of the first chapter to get all of this down, let me take care of the legal details on this separate page.

I **do not** own the following products:

Harry Potter

Pretear

Charmed

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

T'Witches

The Triforce and the goddesses Din, Nayru, and Farore

Music by the Hex Girls of Scooby Doo and the Witch's Ghost

Scooby Doo Music

Chipmunk Music

Kingdom Hearts and Music

The Craft

The Nightmare Before Christmas' "This is Halloween"

101 Dalmatians' "Cruella De Vil"

Sailor Moon Original Japanese Themes and the name Hotaru Tomoe

Songs from the Musical Cabaret

Songs by Hilary Duff

Songs by Shania Twain

Songs by Lindsay Lohan

Disney's Haunted Mansion attraction's "Grim Grinning Ghosts"

Sleeping Beauty's "Once Upon a Dream" – every version

The Little Mermaid II

Disney's The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

The 2005 Holiday Barbie – the blonde with the red gown

Daemons from His Dark Materials

The Thirdack from the Aladdin television series

The Unmother from InuYasha

I **do** own the following:

Takako Amaya Ijiwaruri

The character traits of Hotaru Tomoe

The names Kari, Kelly, and Kit Calloway; Lance Wilder, Ani Trupearl, and Chris Hunter

Maise Evangeline

Celeste Tellulah

Damion Tellulah

Erinn Anderson

Cassidy Blake

Zack Edwards

Dein Mitchell

Matthew Evans

Crysta Summers

Ivy Wilder

Original Songs "Don't Be Scared Now" and "Free"

Fern Chase

Juni Cortez (same name as Spy Kid, but not the same person)

Jenson

Kentington

Russell

Taylor

Wilson

Carmen Cooling

Jessup

Rogers

Turner

Stanton

Miley Calendar

The Brother's Curse (and every character connected to it)

And, of course, I also own the idea to bring all these things together into one action packed story.

If I come across anything I forgot to add, it will be added as part of the new chapter.

Now, our tale begins after _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_ and these first chapters were completed before the coming out of the seventh, and may not final, book of the series (anyone who saw the Stars Reporter special on Sunday the 8th of July saw that JK Rowling may be doing an eighth book). This means that my ideas may or may not conflict with Rowling's (considering I predicted the disappearance of Ollivander and Harry's becoming the Gryffindor Team Captain). Although, depending on how book seven comes out, some people may like the fate I give these characters. Anyway, the only thing that I will take from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows when it finally comes out is the Horcrux that belongs to either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. The rest will more than likely not happen, since I'm drawing from different sources.

I hope you enjoy. Flame if you want. They'll be used to roast the Death Eaters and Umbridge.


	2. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the New Legend of Show White

By Jake the Fearless Leader

Chapter One

When Everything Old is New Again

It was the very beginning of the summer holidays. Most teenagers would be asleep at three thirty in the morning. The boy with the flaming red hair was certainly sleeping in the cot right next to him. But sixteen-year-old Harry Potter couldn't sleep. In fact, he hadn't slept in three days. He knew that he should feel tired. But he was more wide awake than he had ever been in his life. It had been like this after Sirius' death, but at least he was able to sleep then. He had just had no appetite. But now that Professor Dumbledore was gone, it wasn't just meals he was skipping, but sleep as well. In fact, the only thing Harry seemed capable of doing at the moment was bathing.

Of course the Dursleys hadn't bothered to check up on him. For all they cared, he could drop off the face of the world and, as that was soon about to happen, they seemed to be getting ready for it. But this summer was different. His two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, were living with him now. It was harder to hide from them, but he managed. As far as they knew, he was only not eating. He was pretending to sleep, but in truth was not able to manage it.

Harry sighed and rolled over onto his back. Ever since they had gotten back, he knew he had been acting oddly. Once in a while, he felt like he wasn't where he was supposed to be. And while he was able to cope with the Dursleys a lot more with his friends behind him, it seemed like there was no warmth between them at all.

If only Ron and Hermione hadn't argued when he said Draco Malfoy was up to something. Had they listened to him in the beginning when Harry was first suspicious, they might have prevented it all. Katie Bell wouldn't have had to go to Saint Mungo's after being attacked unexpectedly by a cursed necklace. Ron wouldn't have been poisoned by the mead on his seventeenth birthday. Madame Rosmerta wouldn't have been put under the Imperius Curse for very long. Dumbledore wouldn't have died. And he wouldn't have had to break Ginny Weasley's heart.

"Wouldn't it be great if you could live alone?" he whispered to himself. "If you lived alone, you wouldn't hurt anyone, nor would you get hurt."

Sometimes, Harry just wanted to leave there in the middle of the night, when everyone was still asleep, and just head out alone. But he knew that Ron and Hermione would track him down eventually. They'd never let him go anywhere alone, no matter how dangerous it was. Well, no matter. Even if they refused to let him go after the Horcruxes alone, he would just have to tackle the dangerous stuff. If there were anymore traps like that potion that weakened Dumbledore guarding the other Horcruxes, then he would just have to spring them himself. He wouldn't allow his friends to put themselves in danger for his sake. Besides, who knew Voldemort better than him?

"_Harry, I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore…"_

"_I shouldn't have told him! It's made him think he's got to come back! Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me!... He's not going back to Azkaban because of me."_

"_Now listen… I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you." "No one's tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows." "I don't care… I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until June."_

"_Harry, what do you think you are playing at, walking off into the forest with Viktor Krum? I want you to swear, by return owl, that you are not to go walking with anyone else at night. There is somebody highly dangerous at Hogwarts. It is clear to me that they wanted to stop Crouch from seeing Dumbledore and you were probably feet away from them in the dark. You could have been killed. Your name didn't get into the Goblet of Fire by accident. If someone's trying to attack you, they're on their last chance. Stay close to Ron and Hermione, do not leave Gryffindor Tower after hours, and arm yourself for the third task… Keep your head down and look after yourself. I'm waiting for you letter giving me your word you won't stray out-of-bounds again."_

"_Harry, are you all right? I knew it – I knew something like this – what happened?... What happened?" … "We can leave that till morning, can't we, Dumbledore?... Let him have a sleep. Let him rest."_

"_He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix! He's only fifteen and –" "—and he's dealt with as much as most in the Order and more than some --" "No one's denying what he's done! But he's still --" "He's not a child!" "He's not an adult either! He's not James, Sirius!" "I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly."_

"_Dumbledore must have had a reason for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got Harry's best interests at heart --" "He's not your son." "He's as good as. Who else has he got?" "He's got me."_

"_The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams --" "-- or secret Defense Against the Dark Arts groups?" "How did you know about that?" "You want to choose your meeting places more carefully. The Hog's Head, I ask you…" "Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks! That's always packed with people --" "You've got a lot to learn, Hermione." … "What do you think he was doing? Keeping an eye on you, of course." "I'm still being followed?" "Yeah, you are, and just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your first weekend off is organize an illegal defense group." … "So you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the defense group?" "Me? Certainly not! I think it's an excellent idea!" "You do?" "Of course I do! D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?" "But – last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks --" "Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!"_

"_And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?" "What does that matter?" "It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away! Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"_

"_It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all. You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and --" "It wasn't that. It was like something rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me --" "You need to sleep. You're going to have breakfast and then go upstairs to bed, and then you can go and see Arthur after lunch with the others. You're in shock, Harry; you're blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it's lucky you _did_ witness it or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying…"_

"_I was supposed to see you alone, Potter, but Black --" "I'm his godfather." … "Who's going to be teaching me?" "I am." "Why can't Dumbledore teach Harry? Why you?" "I suppose it is a headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks. I assure you I did not beg for the job." … "If I hear you're using these Occlumency lessons to give Harry a hard time, you'll have me to answer to." "How touching. But surely you have noticed that Potter is very like his father?" "Yes, I have." "Well then, you'll know he's so arrogant that criticism simply bounces off him." "Sirius!" "I've warned you, _Snivellus_."_

"_I want you to take this." "What is it?" "A way of letting me know if Snape's giving you a hard time. No, don't open it here! I doubt Molly would approve – but I want you to use it if you need me, all right?" "Okay." … "Look after yourself, Harry."_

"_What is it? Are you all right? Do you need help?"… "He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again, like that's a big disappoint --" "He WHAT?" "Are you serious, Harry? He's stopped giving you lessons?" "Yeah. But it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of a relief to tell you the --" "I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" "If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!"_

"_Come on, you can do better than that!" … "SIRIUS! SIRIUS!" "There's nothing you can do, Harry --" "Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!" "It's too late, Harry --" "We can still reach him --" "There's nothing you can do, Harry… nothing… He's gone." "He hasn't gone! SIRIUS, SIRIUS!" "He can't come back, Harry. He can't come back, because he's d--" "HE – IS – NOT—DEAD! SIRIUS!"_

_This is good. You filled your heart with shadows. You are worthy of becoming the puppet of darkness which will give me power. You poor boy… Now, give to me your hatred._

"_You'll see me again soon, Harry. I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"_

_Why will you not accept me? Are you still attached… to the world of humans?_

"_We'll be there, Harry." "What?" "At your aunt and uncle's house. And then we'll go with you wherever you're going." "No --" "You said to us once before that there was time to turn back if we wanted to. We've had time, haven't we?" "We're with you whatever happens."_

_I see… So you love them. You really love them._

"Wake up! HARRY!"

Harry snapped awake with a violent gasp and bolted upright. His whole body was shaking. He was covered in icy cold sweat. It took him a moment to realize that he was resting against something strong and steady. Someone who smelled strongly of spices had wrapped their arms around him and pulled him into a comforting embrace. Harry only had very few memories of being hugged like this; Mrs. Weasley had done so the night Cedric Diggory died, Sirius had, as well, when Harry had arrived at Grimmauld Place and again at Christmas that year.

Harry looked up and saw a dark figure holding him close. It was way too familiar, but was it at all possible? "Sirius?" he asked softly, hopefully.

The figure holding him whispered something, but Harry couldn't understand him very well. It sounded very muffled. Yet it was definitely a mature male voice and no one would hold Harry like a parent after a nightmare except for Sirius. Harry smiled and snuggled deeper into his godfather's shoulder.

"Don't leave, Sirius. Don't leave me alone again," he whispered as he closed his eyes.

Sirius whispered something again, yet Harry still didn't understand. But he didn't care. He didn't even care that Sirius had always smelled of cypress and not spices. As long as Sirius was with him, that was all that mattered. Harry turned over so his back was resting against Sirius's chest, trying to get comfortable.

"Sirius…" he said softly as he drifted off again.

Ron Weasley sighed deeply. He had been lost in a dream when he was awoken by his best friend thrashing and crying out in his sleep. It had taken him at least five minutes to wake Harry and when he did, he shot up like he'd been fired from a cannon. Unsure of what to do, Ron had pulled him into a warm embrace. After a while, he seemed to recognize Ron's presence and looked up at him. But as soon as Harry had whispered Sirius' name, Ron knew he was still half asleep.

"No, it's me," Ron had told him in response. He wasn't sure if Harry had fully woken up yet until he had rested his head on Ron's shoulder and begged Sirius not to leave him. "Harry, Sirius isn't here. You were just having a bad dream," said Ron again, his heart breaking for his best friend. But even that didn't wake Harry, who just rolled over onto his back, relaxing in Ron's embrace.

"Sirius…" Harry had whispered just before slipping into a deep sleep once more.

That was what made Ron sigh so deeply. Harry had always been so strong and even though he pretended that nothing was wrong, he was slowly losing his mind. For the last couple of days, Harry had not eaten and Ron was pretty sure that this was the first time he slept. If this kept up, Harry wouldn't last long against the Dark Lord. Ron didn't think he could bear it if something were to happen to him.

Ever since he was very young, Ron had dreamed of meeting the boy wizard who's name he had grown up hearing. Ron would sit up late at night whenever Fred and George teased him, picturing the famous Harry Potter would show up and curse the twins into toads or slugs. When he had heard the Boy Who Lived was on the train before his first year at Hogwarts began, Ron was sure it was Fred and George playing one of their jokes. He purposely searched for him, determined to prove his brothers wrong.

That was when he saw Harry for the first time and instantly he was convinced Fred and George had been making the whole thing up. The boy in the compartment could not have been Harry Potter. He was way too small and skinny for a boy of eleven. The clothing on his back barely fit him, giving him even more of a sickly look. His face was very thin, almost too thin. He had untidy black hair and wore round glasses that had obviously been broken and were held together by some sort of tape. In fact, Ron thought that the boy's best feature was his eyes, which he had noticed right away. They were the most intense shade of emerald green that Ron had ever seen in his life. But whether this boy was the Harry Potter or not Ron couldn't tell. The boy's forehead was covered by his bangs, so Ron couldn't see if he bore the legendary lightning scar. But he wondered why should he bother looking? This boy looked like just a regular orphan – or, as Ron's Uncle Thomas would have called him, a savage – not some all-powerful wizard.

Ron sat across from him anyway. After all, the boy was sitting alone and maybe Ron could ask some questions, see if this boy was the real deal. But before Ron could stop himself, he blurted out, "Are you really Harry Potter?" He'd felt so ashamed and so stupid, but the dark haired boy had merely nodded. That didn't entirely convince Ron. True, the boy may have been called Harry Potter, but that didn't mean he was the Boy Who Lived. So Ron asked the most obvious question. And in the moment Harry had pulled backs his bangs to reveal the lightning bolt scar, Ron's doubts had vanished. He really was the famous Harry Potter.

While talking to him on the train, Ron managed to find that Harry was just a regular eleven year old like him. He had only just found out he was famous and it seemed to disturb him. Ron understood and was sympathetic. Before either of them knew it, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were best friends.

But bad luck seemed to follow Harry whenever he went. Ron had been terrified when Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand had been jinxed during Harry's very first Quidditch match. While Harry had seemed okay afterwards, Ron could tell that he had been shaken up about it. When Harry had found the Mirror of Erised, Ron had sensed something was wrong. It was almost as if the image of Mr. and Mrs. Potter that was shown to Harry in the mirror had hypnotized him. His eyes had been glazed over for days and he barely ate or slept. When Snape was going to be refereeing the match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Ron had thoroughly convinced himself that Harry was never going to live through it and it scared him. It was no wonder he had tackled Draco Malfoy when he'd insulted them at the match.

The last thing that happened that year was the Sorcerer's Stone incident. Hermione and Ron had been waiting impatiently just outside the third floor corridor for the headmaster and Harry to return, hopefully with the stone in hand. Suddenly, Professor Dumbledore had hurried out through the door, Harry unconscious and deathly white in his arms. None of them spoke as they hurried to the hospital wing a floor above them and once they'd gotten there, Madam Pomfrey set right to work on trying to help the weak boy. Dumbledore looked very worried and it scared Ron more than anything. Madam Pomfrey came out a few minutes later and explained that Harry had used so much of his own energy that there was a strong possibility that he would never recover. Only Hermione had gone down to the Quidditch Final that year; Ron had refused to leave Harry's bedside, just incase he did pass. Fortunately, Harry had awoken two days after the Final.

Throughout their dangerous adventures, every time Harry got hurt, Ron found that his concern and anxiety over his best friend grew stronger. But then other things happened as well. In second year, when Harry had saved Ginny from the basilisk and Riddle, Ron felt an unexplainable feeling that he believed to be simply relief that his little sister was all right and gratitude towards her rescuer. In the third year, when Harry had found out his parents had died because someone they were close to had betrayed them, he had closed the curtains to his bed and pretended to be asleep when Ron had entered the dormitory, a sign that he didn't want to talk about it. Ron fell asleep grudgingly and when he woke up the next morning, he pulled back the curtains to find Harry had finally dozed off. Ron reached out with his left hand and was inches from Harry's forehead when he stopped short, realizing that he was unconsciously going to run his fingers through the black unruly hair.

That had to be the very first indication that Ron had feelings for Harry, but he was way too young to understand. The November before he turned fifteen, the time period that he and Harry were fighting between Harry becoming a Triwizard Champion and the First Task of the tournament, Ron had finally figured it out. But he didn't understand how he could be fond of Harry while he also had a huge crush on their other best friend. There was only one possibility.

He was bisexual.

At first, Ron was scared to death. He tried to deny how he felt about Harry. They would just make the relationship more complicated than it all ready was. But then Ron saw the dragons that the four Triwizard champions would be facing and in that moment, his whole perspective changed. So what if he fancied Harry? It didn't matter. He would find a way to hide it and make sure no one figured it out. Fortunately, his other crush was starting to date and that pulled his attention away from Harry for the time being.

Ron laid Harry back down on the covers and, after a moment's hesitation, laid down right next to him, but didn't get under the covers with him. If Hermione were to walk in, she would hopefully mistake it for a gesture of concern for a friend and not unrequited passion for what could never be.

But Harry was the first to wake up the next morning. It was nine thirty, shortly after breakfast time at the Dursley house. He turned over and found Ron sleeping next to him. He remembered the dream and suddenly realized that he must have mistaken Ron for Sirius in the dark. He gave a small smile and slid out of bed to get dressed. As he walked silently out of the room, closing the bedroom door behind him, he saw Hermione coming out of the guest bedroom.

"Harry. Good morning. How'd you sleep?" she asked.

"All right," Harry lied. "How 'bout you?"

"Pretty good," she said. "Ron still asleep?"

"Yeah, he is." Harry started down the stairs, Hermione right behind him. He reached the landing and started for the kitchen. He heard the television on in the living room, so that meant that Dudley was in there.

When the two of them entered the kitchen, they saw that it was abandoned. Aunt Petunia was in the garden in the backyard, Dudley was definitely in the living room, and Uncle Vernon was at work. So Harry went directly to the refrigerator and opened the door. He pulled out the milk, the orange juice, and the eggs. He went into the cabinets and pulled down the cereal. Finally, Harry located the bacon and pulled out the pots and pans. He knew that Ron and Hermione would be looking forward to a full breakfast like the past few days and Harry didn't want them to know how it usually was at number four Privet Drive.

"Harry, you don't have to make a big show just to pretend like everything's normal," said Hermione, seeing right through him. "Now what's going on?"

Harry sighed, turning on the stove and preparing to cook the eggs and bacon. "The truth is that last night, Uncle Vernon told me that Aunt Petunia wasn't going to be cooking for anyone who wasn't her family anymore."

"But you're part of her family," said Hermione, confused.

"Well, apparently they're all ready preparing to write me out of their lives forever," said Harry in a bitter voice. He wouldn't be seventeen for several more weeks yet and they were all ready acting like he didn't exist. Of course, they hadn't been too thrilled when Ron and Hermione showed up at their front door, either, but as both of them were old enough to perform magic outside of school, Harry made it seem like they didn't have much choice in the matter, which might have caused this sudden revolution.

After a few minutes, Ron came into the kitchen, fully dressed. "Blimey, I'm starving."

"So what else is new?" said Hermione with a roll of her eyes. She was all ready reading that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Anyone we know been killed?" Ron asked as he sat down at the table beside her.

"Nothing. Everything's been quiet since Dumbledore's funeral," she said, folding up the paper as Harry placed two plates of eggs and bacon on the table. She looked slightly impressed while Ron looked stunned.

"Since when do you cook?" he asked Harry incredulously.

"Eat up before it gets cold," said Harry, ignoring the question. The truth was that Harry had known how to cook since he was old enough to reach the stove. Aunt Petunia had always demanded that he do the cooking and save her the trouble of having to work in the kitchen when her son needed her undivided attention.

Harry turned back to the counter where he had left his plate and saw Dudley walking slowly into the kitchen, his eyes watching Ron and Hermione cautiously. Harry had half-expected this. He went over to the stove as Dudley approached him.

"Hey, they're not gonna do anything, right?" he whispered softly. "I mean, if I demand that you give me your breakfast, they won't try to hurt me, will they?"

"Well, there are laws against that, of course, but only Hermione would think before she acted. Don't expect Ron to be that understanding," said Harry without looking at him. "However, I can't prove you did anything if I didn't see you do it, Dud, so you might as well take the plate while my back is still facing you."

Whether Dudley's small brain comprehended this or not, Harry couldn't say. But his cousin took the plate off the counter and ran from the room as fast as his porky legs could go. The sight made Ron and Hermione look up from their meals.

"What was that about?" asked Hermione.

"Nothing, just Dudley being his usual self," said Harry as he pulled four pieces of toast out of the toaster. He walked over to Ron and Hermione and handed them each a piece of toast, keeping two for himself. A very typical breakfast for him around the Dursley household.

"T'anks, ma'e," said Ron through a full mouth, which made Hermione wince.

"Aren't you going to eat anything else?" asked Hermione, watching Harry go back over to the stove to clean up.

"No, I'm not very hungry," Harry lied again as his stomach gave a small gurgle. "I'm just gonna clean up here and go back upstairs."

Ron continued to eat as Harry started washing the dishes, which meant that neither of them noticed Hermione's frown. As soon as Harry was finished, he left the room. As soon as he was gone, Hermione said, "Did something happen last night?"

"Well, it was the first time Harry slept since we got here, if that's what you mean?" said Ron. They heard a door slam suddenly. "What was that?"

"I don't think Harry went upstairs," said Hermione with a sigh. "So Harry actually fell asleep?"

"Yeah and he ended up having a nightmare." Ron took some more eggs off the plate before him. "I don't know what it was about, but it really shook him up."

"Did he tell you anything about it after he woke up?" asked Hermione.

"No, he was still half-asleep. Thought I was Sirius."

Hermione didn't look too surprised by that news. In fact, she appeared to have been expecting that. "The dream must have been about Sirius, then."

"But shouldn't he have come to grips with it? After all, it has been a year," said Ron.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I wouldn't have expected him to. He barely spoke about Sirius at all last year and whenever one of us brought it up, Harry abruptly changed the subject. And Dumbledore's death couldn't have helped. If anything, it just made it worse."

"So what do we do?" asked Ron, putting down his fork.

"Nothing. We don't want to overwhelm him or he'll never talk to us. We have to be patient. Sooner or later, Harry's going to need someone to talk to and we'll have to be there for him," she said as Dudley came back into the kitchen warily.

***

Harry hadn't felt like staying inside anymore, and so he walked out of number four Privet Drive and slammed the door behind him by accident. He was lost in thought, so his feet took him to all his favorite haunts from the previous summers by themselves. He soon found himself in the crowded play park a few blocks away from Privet Drive. He went over to the swings and sat down upon them.

It had been less than a week since Professor Dumbledore's funeral. Harry hadn't been able to officially cry for the headmaster yet. True, he had almost done so at the funeral, but he'd fought it off then. He didn't really want anyone to see him have a complete and total meltdown. While he had never told anyone, Harry had always thought of the elderly man as being the greatest wizard that he had ever known. And though he hated to admit it in front of everybody, Harry had always sort of known that he had been one of Dumbledore's favorite students and had taken pride in it. And Dumbledore had also been like Harry's mentor of sorts, especially after the previous year that they spent going back through Voldemort's past.

Why the thought of Ginny Weasley entered his mind now was incomprehensible to him. He'd been utterly depressed since the funeral, his mind so full of thoughts of Dumbledore's death and Sirius' death the previous year, to think about the youngest Weasley over the last couple of days. So why did it suddenly come up now? Yes, he missed her. Yes, he was still hopelessly in love with her. But they could never be, not while Voldemort was still alive.

Harry sighed and stood up. He suddenly didn't want to be in the park alone. He figured that Ron and Hermione would be worried about him right about now. Ron had had enough time to tell Hermione about the dream. So he decided to head back to number four.

BANG!

Harry was so preoccupied, he barely registered the people screaming around him. He stopped walking. He could feel pain from just above his abdomen. But why would he be feeling pain there?

It wasn't a very cloudy day and the sun shone blindingly into Harry's eyes. But why could he suddenly see the sky? Was he lying on the ground? And whose voices were those nearby? Who's hand was pressing against the sharp pain on his stomach, making it intensify? Faces hovered above his, but they were all darkened by the sun shining directly overhead.

"Hang in there…" a man's voice echoed, as if Harry had heard him speaking in a cave.

"One of the women in the crowd is a neighbor of his. Says he lives on Privet Drive at number four. Goes by the name Harry Potter," said another male voice.

The sky started to grow duller. Harry could feel the corners of his mind becoming sluggish, beckoning sleep. His eyes slowly began to close…

***

It was late in the day. Very late. Mr. Dursley had just returned from Grunnings, his drill company. It was nearly dinner time, and Ron and Hermione were worried. Harry still hadn't come back yet. More than once, Ron had suggested that "You-Know-Who" had kidnapped him, but Hermione shot him down right away.

"Harry told us that he was safe here. Dumbledore had trusted in old magic that would protect him while he was here until his seventeenth birthday, so there is no way Voldemort --"

Ron instantly flinched and Hermione heaved a heavy sigh. "Oh, come off it, Ron. You're gonna have to say the name sometime. Dumbledore said it."

"Dumbledore wasn't afraid of him," Ron interjected.

"Well, then, Harry says it. All the time. As do I now."

"Harry's not afraid of him, either. And I would expect you to say it."

"You're wrong, Ron," said Hermione with a slight shake of her head. "Of course Harry's afraid of him. How could he not be, when he is the one who must destroy him or be destroyed by him?"

The telephone rang quite suddenly, startling Ron and Hermione both. Mrs. Dursley got up and went over to answer it. "Hello? … Yes, he does. Is something wrong? …" (Ron and Hermione glanced at each other anxiously.) "Yes. Yes, I understand. … Thank you." She hung up the phone and turned to her family and her nephew's best friends.

"Who was it, Petunia?" asked Mr. Dursley.

"The hospital," said Mrs. Dursley gravely. "Harry's been shot."

***

The Dursley family was going to drive over to the hospital, but Ron and Hermione had a much quicker way of doing it. Hermione Apparated over to the hospital with Ron hanging on to her arm, as he didn't yet have his Apparition license yet. They ran down the hospital corridor and ran to the nurses' station. Ron couldn't help but look around. He had never been in a Muggle hospital before.

"Excuse me," Hermione said to the closest nurse. "You called our friend's aunt a little while ago. His name's Harry Potter."

The nurse checked her charts. "Yes. He's still in Trauma One."

"Let's go," said Ron, starting to move.

"We can't, it's restricted," Hermione said, grabbing his arm. She turned back to the nurse. "Is he okay?"

"A doctor will be with you shortly. Just go on down to the waiting room," the nurse said, pointing down the hall.

Ron and Hermione nodded and turned to go. But then Ron had a second thought and turned down the hall to Trauma One. With a slight gasp, Hermione looked around nervously, noticed no one was watching, and then followed him.

They found Harry in a private room on the left. Doctors and nurses were surrounding him.

"Pulse seventy, weak," said one doctor.

"I need some numbers, people," said what looked like to be the main doctor. He was examining an area near Harry's stomach. From what Ron could see, Harry was wearing no shirt and his entire stomach was covered in his own blood. "Small entry wound, abdomen."

"No exit wound. The bullet's still in there," said the first doctor again.

"Tell the O.R. we're coming in," said the main doctor.

"You got it, Gene." A blonde nurse ran right past Ron and Hermione without giving them a second glance.

Hermione's hand sought comfort and found Ron's hand. He took it without question and gave it a reassuring squeeze, watching the main doctor put a strange device to Harry's chest.

"What is that?" Ron asked quietly.

"It's called a stethoscope," whimpered Hermione. "It allows the doctors to listen to the heart and lungs."

"Lungs failing. Start an I.V. Get me two units of O positive stat," the main doctor said, pulling away.

"Right away," said one of the brunette nurses.

"Get four cc's of adrenalin," said a second doctor.

"Yes, sir," said a second brunette nurse.

A loud sound made them all turn. Ron saw that one of the monitors that had been showing zigzagging lines was suddenly showing a straight line and letting out a long BEEP. For some reason, this made Hermione panic.

"Oh, God," she gasped as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

"Full arrest. Paddles," commanded the second doctor. The other two doctors went over and brought over some sort of machine. The second doctor picked up the paddles that were attached to it by a spiral wire. "Gel," he said and the first nurse squirted some sort of gel onto the paddles, which he then rubbed together and placed directly onto Harry's chest. "Clear!"

The other doctors and the nurses stood back. Ron heard a noise like an electrical surge and Harry's body jolted. Ron nearly cried out in shock as Harry fell limp once again. The monitor didn't stop it's beep or it's line.

"Recharge," the second doctor said tensely.

"Recharging," said a nurse as the first doctor noticed that Ron and Hermione were watching from the door. He went over to them and tried to usher them from the room, but very half-heartedly, and when they didn't leave, he stopped trying and just stood by them.

"Clear!" said the second doctor again. This time, Ron was prepared for Harry's body to react to the electrical surge that went through him. Harry fell limp again as all eyes went to the monitor. Nothing changed. The loud beep was constant and the line was just as straight.

Ron looked around the room. The doctors and nurses looked dejected. Hermione started crying harder. Finally, he was able to comprehend what was happening.

The first doctor turned to Ron and Hermione. "I'm sorry."

"Call it," said the main doctor. A nurse picked up a chart and wrote what the doctor said next. "Time of death: six fifteen p.m."

Hermione's tears turned to uncontrollable hysteria as she turned to bury her head in Ron's chest. Ron held her close, tears streaming down his own face. It couldn't be happening. Harry couldn't be gone…

"Again."

Everyone in the room turned to look at the second doctor. Even Ron and Hermione looked at his determined face.

"Carter --" began the main doctor.

"I said 'again!'" snarled Carter, glaring at the main doctor.

The main doctor didn't move. "Carter, it's over," he said firmly.

Carter stared at him for a moment. Then he turned to the paddle machine and recharged it himself. He put the paddles back to Harry's chest. "Clear!" he said forcefully.

Once again, Harry's body jerked from the electrical surge that coursed through him. For a third time, he fell limp. But something changed. Ron did not hear one beep from the monitor, but many beeps evenly spaced out. He looked up at it to see that the zigzagging lines had returned. Hermione gasped sharply.

"We got him," said Carter with a grin. He looked back at the main doctor. "Gene, why don't you ever trust me?"

The main doctor chose to ignore this. "Let's get him up to the O.R." he said as they prepared to get moving.

The first doctor turned to Ron and Hermione. "Come on. I'll take you to the waiting room," he said, escorting them out. They walked down the corridor and came to a room with sofas and chairs. "You two wait here."

"What about Harry? Will he be okay?" asked Ron as Hermione wiped tears away from her face.

"I can't tell you that. The truth is, he's not out of the woods yet. And the longer it takes us, the weaker he's going to become," said the doctor grimly. Upon seeing the looks upon Ron and Hermione's faces, he added, "Doctor Carter and Doctor Lawrence are the best in this hospital. He's in good hands." The doctor paused. "I'll keep you informed. By the way, my name's Doctor Henderson." He walked away from the waiting room and headed back towards Trauma One.

Ron and Hermione sat down on the sofa nearby. Neither of them spoke for a little while. Then, when Ron could take the silence no longer, he turned to look at Hermione. "I'm scared," he admitted quietly.

Hermione looked up at him and nodded. "I know. Me too," she said quietly.

"What do we do?" asked Ron.

"There's nothing we can do but wait and pray that he'll be okay," said Hermione. She leaned gently against Ron, inhaling the spicy scent she had come to associate with Ron's presence. She'd had to cut herself short from saying it the year before in Slughorn's first potions lesson. She felt his arm wrap around her, pulling her closer as Harry's relatives arrived.

It was about an hour later when Henderson returned. Both Ron and Hermione stood up, but he would only acknowledge the Dursleys now. "Are you Mr. and Mrs. Dursley?" he asked.

"Yes," said Mr. Dursley, standing up.

"How is he?" asked Hermione.

"Harry's out of surgery, but he's still in critical condition. There's still a chance that he's never going to wake up, but we're pretty hopeful," said Henderson. "You can see him now if you want. Uh, family only," he added when Ron and Hermione started to move.

"Actually, I think that Harry would rather the two of them were there when he woke up, not us," said Mrs. Dursley, looking at Ron and Hermione. Hermione smiled and mouthed "Thank you" to her.

Henderson nodded and lead the two into a private recovery room. As soon as Henderson left the room, Ron and Hermione went to either side of Harry's bed. Ron noticed that there were many tubes connected to his arms and a clear tube was connected to Harry's nostrils. Hermione explained that these "IV's" were providing Harry with the necessary oxygen, blood, and medicines that he needed. They looked at him in silence for a moment, holding his hands. Hermione was stroking his midnight hair gently with her other hand. Ron had rested his other hand gently on the bed near Harry's pillow.

"We're here, Harry, right beside you," said Hermione gently after a while, hoping that maybe he would wake up if they started talking.

"Can you hear us?" Ron asked softly, but Harry gave no indication that he had.

"Harry, listen to me, you have got to wake up," said Hermione.

"Don't leave us," Ron whispered.

"You can do it," Hermione urged.

"We need you," added Ron.

"Open your eyes," said Hermione, looking up at Ron to see tears in his eyes.

"Come back to us." Ron's voice shook with every syllable and the tears began to fall.

A moment passed in silence. Then, as they watched, Harry's eyes opened. He blinked once and then stared up at the figures above him.

"Harry?" asked Hermione hopefully.

He smiled upon recognizing the voice of one of the fuzzy figures. "Hermione," he whispered weakly.

Ron and Hermione grinned and sighed in relief. "Are you okay?" Ron asked, releasing Harry's hand quickly.

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm okay," he said.

Hermione gave him a small hug, kissing his cheek before she pulled away. She went to go get a doctor and Ron stayed with Harry. By the time Hermione returned with Carter, Harry had fallen asleep.


	3. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the New Legend of Show White

By Jake the Fearless Leader

Chapter Two

The Rite of Coming of Age

Over the next few days, Harry grew slowly stronger. He wasn't really allowed to walk around too much and so was quickly becoming bored. His only relief was visiting hours when Ron and Hermione would come in. They'd stay the entire day and leave once visiting hours were over, leaving Harry to sulk in the lonely room. He didn't see much of the Dursleys. Sometimes Aunt Petunia would come in just to see how he was doing and if there was anything he needed a guardian's signature for, but otherwise they stayed away. This suited Harry just fine. On their visits, Ron and Hermione would bring some of his books and magazines from home, specially bewitched so that the Muggle doctors and nurses wouldn't suspect that their patient was a wizard.

After spending a week in the hospital, Harry was more than ready to leave. On the eighth morning of his time there, he was lying in bed, skimming through a Quidditch magazine, when the door opened and Ron and Hermione entered his room. "Knock, knock," said Ron with a grin.

"Hey. Please tell me you're here to pick me up," said Harry hopefully as his friends went over to him.

"No. Dr. Lawrence said one more day, just to be sure," said Hermione.

"Yeah, and you know, it wouldn't kill you to get some rest," said Ron pointedly.

Harry sighed, slumping back onto his pillows. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered. Ever since he'd been moved out of the recovery room and into a normal hospital room, his friends had been hounding him about his lack of sleep and food.

"By the way, Mum wrote us to say that the wedding is the nineteenth of July, so we should probably go to my place about two weeks in advance," said Ron.

"Hey, we can leave whenever. The magic should have had time to work by now," said Harry.

"Well, we're not moving you out of the house while you're still recovering. So you're just gonna have to wait until you get out of here tomorrow and then we'll take it one day at a time," said Hermione.

"You didn't tell your family that I'm here, did you?" asked Harry suddenly. If Ron had told anyone in the Weasley family, then the news would have carried to the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. And he didn't want anyone to worry, especially Ginny.

"Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to make Mum panic," said Ron with a knowing smile. It was true that whenever it came to Harry, Mrs. Weasley was known to overreact.

Ron and Hermione stayed with Harry the entire day, but they had to leave when visiting hours ended that night, as per usual. Before he went to sleep, Dr. Lawrence informed Harry that he would indeed be going back to number four the next day and that after he did, he shouldn't overexert himself. Also, he needed to make one more appointment for Harry to get his stitches taken out, but unfortunately this date was set for after he would all ready be at the Weasleys. He would have to tell them about what had happened after all.

Harry was released at around ten o'clock the next morning. After getting back to number four Privet Drive, Harry went straight to his bedroom. Ron and Hermione had expected that he would need help getting up the stairs, but Harry seemed to be okay on his own. Harry wasn't as surprised as his friends were, though; he had always been a fast healer, which was a good thing considering the number of times he had gotten hurt over the years. When he opened the door, he was very surprised to see three letters on the bed.

"Hey, someone's got mail," said Ron as Harry went over to the bed. He picked them up and looked at the one on top of the pile. It was definitely not like the usual envelopes from the wizarding world. They were usually made of yellow parchment and these three envelopes felt like they were made of white fabric, since they were soft to the touch. The top envelope was addressed in golden ink and read:

** Harry J. Potter  
Level Twelve Fledgling  
Gryffindor House  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

This was such a weird address that Harry almost laughed. But then he took a look at the other two envelopes and saw that they were similarly addressed in the same golden ink.

** Ronald B. Weasley  
Level Twelve Fledgling  
Gryffindor House  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry **

** Hermione J. Granger  
Level Twelve Witchling  
Gryffindor House  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

Harry handed the envelopes addressed to his friends to Ron as he turned his over to see if he recognized the wax seal. It was also gold and bearing an unusual coat of arms: a large circle with four other circles attached to its corners. In the middle circle was the word "Wisdom." In the upper left circle was the word "Intuition." In the lower left circle was the word "Trust." In the upper right circle was the word "Courage." And in the lower right circle was the word "Honesty."

Harry dimly heard Ron's intake of breath as he opened the envelope. Inside was a single piece of parchment. He unfolded it and read it with mounting curiosity.

_Dear Harry J. Potter,_

_The time has come at last for your Initiation. An Initiation consists of a ceremony and a number of  
tests which will change your status from Fledgling to Wizard in the eyes of the Wizarding community._

_While your Initiation will not take place until your eighteenth year of life, you must meet with your  
assigned Initiation Master to go over the rules and regulations. Your meeting is scheduled for eight  
o'clock on the first of July. Your Whitelighter will escort you to our plane._

_Good luck and blessed be._

_Sincerely,_

**_Rhiana Noble_**

_Lady Rhiana Noble  
Head Elder of the Council of Elders_

Harry reread the letter several times, but it didn't help him understand it more. His Initiation? A ceremony of some sort that would allow him to be called an adult wizard? Nobody had ever mentioned that was how it was done. And what sort of tests were required?

"Damn, this had to come today," Ron mumbled under his breath.

"Why? What does it mean?" asked Harry, looking up at his friends. Ron's face was pale, but for once Hermione looked just as clueless as he was.

"All my brothers went through this all ready," said Ron. "The Initiation is what really qualifies underaged witches and wizards as adults. They try to keep things like this quiet, but of course since family members who are old enough are allowed to attend, it's hard to keep it a complete secret and usually younger siblings end up finding out."

"Whitelighter… I think I've read about them. Aren't they like guardian angels to good witches and wizards?" asked Hermione.

"You mean like how Peter Pan has Tinkerbelle?"

Hermione nodded at Harry. "Yes, minus the tutu and the wings."

"They also guide future Whitelighters," explained Ron. "See, Whitelighters are humans who either died doing something of great goodness or had a special quality about them. When they die, they're offered immortality and the chance to help those like us. They have the ability to heal wounds and they can orb, either between planes or to somewhere else on the Earth."

"Orb?" asked Harry.

"They turn into a stream of light," said Ron. "Their identities are kept secret from their charges until they are called to meet with their Initiation Masters."

"It's also said that romantic relationships between Whitelighters and witches and wizards are strictly forbidden," added Hermione.

Harry nodded, looking down at his letter again. "When are you two going to be meeting your Initiation Masters?" he asked.

"Oh, they're all set for the same time. That way, no one can spy or listen in on your conversation," said Ron.

Harry glanced up at the calendar on his wall. The first of July was at the end of the week, which wasn't that far away now. It would only be a matter of time before the Whitelighters arrived for them.

Harry had spent the rest of the morning napping and then the three of them had a nice quiet lunch in his room. Afterwards, Hermione pulled out a magazine she'd been mailed while Harry was still in the hospital. It was an order form from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "We're all going to need new dress robes for this," she said. "My only two sets of dress robes are from the Yule Ball in our fourth year, which I've grown out of, and the ones I wore to Dumbledore's funeral, which I still can't look at."

"I know exactly what you mean," said Harry in agreement.

"The ones Fred and George bought me two years ago were the ones I wore to the funeral, so I think I'm okay," said Ron quickly and avoiding looking them in the eyes.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and he knew she was thinking the same thing he was. Ron just didn't want his friends to be reminded of how poor the Weasley family actually was.

"What do they look like again?" asked Hermione casually.

"Like what Harry wore to the funeral, only in navy blue," said Ron, still looking at the floor.

"Okay, well those will be just fine," said Hermione as she opened up the magazine and started to look through it. Neither of them said anything, but Harry and Hermione noticed that Ron was more interested in the magazine after that.

"This style would look wonderful on you, Harry," said Hermione approvingly as she turned the page. Looking over her shoulder, Harry saw dress robes that resembled the sort of thing that princes and princesses would wear in fairy tales. But he had to admit, he did like them.

"Hermione, those robes are the most expensive in the entire magazine," said Ron incredulously.

"But they're in your price range, right, Harry?"

"Well…" Harry began, but he hesitated in answering. The truth was even before inheriting Sirius' money, Harry had been very well off. What he had assumed at the age of eleven to be a small fortune had actually been a _large_ fortune. Even after six years of school books, supplies, and robes, Harry still had yet to make a dent in his money pile. So of course he could easily afford the royal dress robes from Madam Malkin's.

Hermione seemed to sense what the answer was and let it drop. "Hmm… the color chart is for both sets of robes, so it's Pearl, which is a sort of ivory, Enchanting Ginger, which is a light brown, Realm, which is a blue-green, Make Believe, which is more like a coral, Precious Emerald, which is obviously green, Pixie Dust, which is light pink, Burgundy, which is a dark red, Infinity and Beyond, which is a royal blue, Enchanted Princess, which is a rose pink, and… perfect!"

"What?" asked Ron.

"This is it. Prince Charming," said Hermione, showing the book to Harry. He took a look at it and saw that a young wizard was wearing the robes in royal purple. Harry didn't have Hermione's keen sense of color, so he figured that he would just have to take her word for it.

"Yeah, okay, if you say so," said Harry and Hermione instantly wrote the number on a piece of parchment.

"Okay, now, I'm just gonna get this style. Mum and Dad won't mind sending me the money for this."

"Hermione, I'll pay for it now and you can pay me back later," said Harry reasonably.

"Really? Thanks, Harry. That makes it so much easier. Now, which color?"

Harry took a look at the colors the robe Hermione chose were available. They were Hawaiian Cinder, which looked like it was maroon, Southern Blue, Pretty as a Princess, which was a deep pink, Blushing Princess, a peachy color, Green with Envy, Moonlight Pool, which was a deep blue-green, Calla Lily, which looked more like ivory to Harry, and Volcanic Island, which was a charcoal. He was amazed how people could come up with such outrageous names for simple colors.

"The Moonlight Pool," said Hermione finally. "Okay, I'll fill out the order form and they should be here the day before our appointments."

Sure enough, on the last day of June, two packages arrived for Harry and Hermione that turned out to be the dress robes. Harry tried his on in the privacy of the bathroom and was pleased to see that it fit him perfectly. He quickly changed back into his normal clothes and returned the new dress robes to his wardrobe, making sure they wouldn't wrinkle overnight.

The next morning, Harry woke up feeling slightly nervous and he could tell Ron and Hermione were too. They barely spoke to each other all day, waiting for the fateful hour that their Whitelighters would arrive. At around six thirty that night, Harry showered, shaved, and changed into his dress robes. As he was trying to make his hair lie flat (an effort that always ended in vain), Ron came in wearing his navy blue dress robes. Harry remembered them from the funeral and remembered how grateful he was to see that these didn't have frills or lace on them. He still had yet to thank the Weasley twins and made a mental note to do so the next time he saw them.

Hermione walked into the room a few minutes later. Harry couldn't help but be amazed. She had managed to pull her hair into an elegant ponytail and it took Harry a bit to realize that the reason her face looked so different was because she was wearing makeup. It did her a world of good and, judging by the vacant expression on Ron's face, he greatly approved.

"Did the letter say what time and where they were gonna show up?" asked Hermione, checking her hair once more in Harry's mirror.

"No. But I would guess that it should be soon. I mean, we've got to figure out where we're going before we get up There," said Ron, pointing upwards.

Waiting for the Whitelighters was very nerve wracking. Harry couldn't remember feeling more terrified than he was right now. Finally, at seven thirty, he heard what sounded like a light chiming of a bell. He turned to see two thick streams of sparkling white lights entering from the ceiling and landing on the floor. They formed into human forms. They were both men, one looked as though he was in his early twenties and the other looked like he was in his late thirties. The older man had sandy colored hair, blue-gray eyes, and a kind face. The younger man had dark brown hair, deep pools of burgundy eyes, and a troubled look about him.

"Hey. Glad to see you three are ready," said the older man in an American accent. "My name is Lance Wilder. This is Christopher Hunter."

"It's Chris, actually," the younger boy corrected. He was American, as well. "And this is --" He turned to the empty space next to him and started. His confusion quickly turned to annoyance. "Where is she?"

"Oh, I don't believe this. Ivy! You'd better not be with Brad!" Lance called out.

"I thought it was Bret," said Chris.

"No, Bret was last month," corrected Leo.

"Oh. Then when did she date Michael?"

"Two weeks ago Tuesday."

"And Joey?"

"Uh… I think he was our uncle once removed."

"Then who was --?"

"Does it matter who I was or was not dating in the past?" said a snappy American female voice. A second later, another Whitelighter orbed into the room with the same soft chime and white lights. This one had blonde hair that went halfway down her back and the same blue-gray eyes as Lance.

"'bout time you showed up, Ivy. Rhiana's not going to be happy."

"Forget her," growled Ivy, glaring at Chris.

"This is my sister, Ivy Wilder," said Lance before turning to the other two Whitelighters. "Now, we've got to separate, so I'll go outside and Ivy will go into the room next door. Orb your charges with you."

"Okay, but this had better be quick. I'm gonna be so late for my date," said Ivy, earning a reproachful glare from her older brother. Noticing it, Ivy quickly raised her arm. Lance did the same. In sync, they flicked their arms and orbed out of the bedroom. However, their white streams of light were joined by two other streams of white light. Harry looked around him and saw that Ron and Hermione had vanished. Only Chris was in the room with him, shaking his head and grinning.

"She'll never learn," he muttered. "So…" He turned to face Harry and merely took to looking him over, almost as if evaluating him.

After an awkward moment of silence, Harry said, "Now what?"

This seemed to bring Chris back to reality. "Oh… right… Sorry, I'm kinda new at this."

"'New?'" repeated Harry. "You mean I was assigned to an amateur?"

"Hey, I haven't lost or mislead a charge yet. Granted, they were all future Whitelighters and I only had to watch them for about a day or so…"

"How long have you been at this exactly?" asked Harry, getting more and more worried by the minute.

"Well, you're the first wizard I've been assigned to," admitted Chris. "I… died… about six months before you were even born. After your birth, one of the Elders, my mentor, suggested that I be assigned to you. It took a lot of convincing, as I was still in training, but they all agreed in the end. So I introduced myself to your parents and met you for the first time when you were a week old, then spent the next twelve months training while keeping an eye on you from afar. At that point, my training was complete and I was assigned a Whitelighter-to-be to watch over. All of my charges after that were future Whitelighters. Fifteen in all."

"Okay, well that makes me feel a little better," said Harry.

"Let me introduce myself formally. Chris Hunter." Chris held out his hand and Harry shook it. "It's great to see you again, Harry."

"How much about me do you actually know?" asked Harry.

"Everything. I've been keeping a close eye on you."

"Yeah, that's pretty scary."

"Yeah, I know," said Chris. "Well, we'd better get going. We don't want to be late." He walked over to Harry and grabbed his arm. "Okay, just a slight warning, you're probably not going to like this much. Trust me, when I first did this, I preferred Apparition."

"Oh, then I think I'll be okay with this," said Harry. While he knew how to Apparate, he hated doing it and was in no hurry to get his license.

Chris smiled. "We'll see."

Chris started the orbing process. Harry felt a very strange sensation as they left the bedroom. It felt as if his body had been broken up into millions of tiny pieces. He could feel absolutely nothing around him, yet sensed that Chris was somewhere close by. All he could see was a whirl of colors and he had gone deaf. Finally, the feeling ended and Harry grabbed Chris to steady himself. The experience had left him feeling very dizzy and lightheaded.

"Well?" asked Chris.

"Okay, you win. Apparition is better," Harry said weakly.

Chris laughed. "Don't worry. It's just one of those things you have get used to. Besides, I doubt you'll be orbing much."

Harry nodded as his vision stopped swimming. He gasped loudly, looking around him. It was the most spectacular sight he had ever seen, even more amazing than Hogwarts castle. They had orbed into a large entrance corridor that was decorated an ethereal white in color. All around there were people in white cloaks with the hoods drawn up. They were walking this way and that way, gathered together talking in quiet voices, and there were some in Muggle clothing showing their young charges around.

"This is amazing!" said Harry in awe.

"Follow me, Harry. And stick close because it's easy to get lost in here," said Chris, opening a wooden door to his left and stepping back to allow Harry to walk through first.

Harry was shocked to see that the corridor up ahead was no longer white and wonderful. In fact, it looked similar to a corridor in Hogwarts. Chris led Harry down to the end of it and opened the imposing wood door. Beyond this door was a decent sized office. The walls were covered by shelves that held bowls of glittering crystals and stones, ancient books on the craft, and jars of potions and elixirs of every kind and color. There were very few pieces of furniture, which basically included a desk and four different chairs in the center of the room. Standing next to the desk was a man in his forties who had brown hair and brown eyes.

"Ah, Chris, there you are," he said with a proper-sounding American accent, stepping forward to greet them.

"Hey, Gideon. This is Harry Potter," said Chris, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry. It is an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Lord Gideon, your Initiation Master." Gideon held his hand out and Harry shook it politely.

"It's nice to meet you," said Harry.

"Care to sit down?" asked Gideon, gesturing to his chairs. Harry and Chris sat next to each other and Gideon sat down opposite them. "Now, I would like to get started right away and normally with any other witch or wizard I would, but considering your unique case, I think a little background history would be most appropriate.

"Since the time of the four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it has been a tradition that when underaged witches and wizards, or witchlings and fledglings, become eighteen they be given the rites of Initiation. The first Elders who created the rules and regulations of the Initiation ceremony monitored several generations of purebloods and noticed that it took a few years for their powers to reveal themselves. By the age of five, it was easy to classify who was a fledgling or a witchling and who was a Squib. Therefore, thirteen levels were added for the under-Initiates, one level for each year of life going from the age of six to the age of eighteen. In the old days, different colored robes were used to tell the differences between the levels and each group was assigned a nick-name. However, when more Muggle-borns and half-bloods entered the wizarding world and the pure-bloods starting fading out, that custom was abandoned.

"When a witchling or fledgling reaches their thirteenth level, they are required to pass their Initiation to be recognized as a full-fledged witch or wizard. It used to be that eighteen was the legal age, but then the Ministry of Magic decided to change the legal age to seventeen. However, we Elders, in our infinite wisdom, decided that Initiation should still be given to eighteen year olds… to ensure that those considered for Initiation would be mature enough to handle it.

"Now, let's get on with the rules and regulations. Your Initiation is an event that will unfold over the course of one full month --"

Event, right? The in-charge Elder could call it anything he wanted, Harry thought, but it was essentially a test. An evaluation. An exam. He could pass it… or he could fail. He'd realized that minutes after Gideon began to describe the first part of it.

Each day of his birth month, July, he was going to be judged and graded. "Viewed," in Gideon's words. "Spied on," was Harry's take.

Either way, certain Elders – and of course, his Whitelighter, Chris – would be able to see and hear him even when Harry was at Hogwarts, with all its protective barriers. Apparently the Elders hadn't known Harry had decided to drop out if the school reopened.

Every choice Harry made – big or small, trivial or serious – would be monitored and evaluated.

Starting on the first of July, exactly a year from now, Harry realized, his decisions, choices, and actions would be viewed. He was supposed to practice his magic, try to rack up points in applied magic. But practice would only make perfect if what he did was done for the right reasons. Reasons that upheld the traditional Wiccan Creed. "And it harm none, do what ye will." That was supposed to be his guide and the end result of all his decisions.

He was also, Gideon was saying now, expected to know close to one hundred spells. Whether or not he used them was also his choice.

One hundred spells… Harry thought about all the spells he had learned over the course of his education. He wasn't sure he was up to one hundred yet, but there was no need to panic. He still had a whole year to teach himself as many spells as needed. Chris even tossed in a tidbit that all one hundred spells could easily be variations of the basics: Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration.

Score! He, Ron, and Hermione had all ready done all of the above; in the past, especially during the Triwizard Tournament and the D. A. meetings, they'd made use of the Big Three with excellent results.

That was when his Initiation Master had explained a crucial rule: No help.

Harry was not allowed to get an assist from any witch, wizard, or Whitelighter during his Initiation period. No way, no how, no matter how he tried to manipulate it.

"Your Initiation begins of the first day of July, whether you're staying with a friend, relative, or you're at home," Gideon clarified, to be sure he really understood, "your every act must be include one or all of the following virtues: wisdom, intuition, trust, courage, and honesty. The more of these qualities you use in making your decisions, the more worthy you will be considered of being a true wizard."

"And the more stones you'll earn," Chris blurted.

"Stones?" asked Harry.

"Points," explained Chris, realizing his blunder. "Each stone is worth one point. And you must earn one hundred during your Initiation month."

Wisdom. Intuition. Trust. Courage. Honesty. Twenty points for each would do it, Harry reckoned, knowing that Hermione, being the perfectionist that she was, would probably be thinking along these lines. He amused himself with imagining her coming back from her meeting carrying multiple sheets of parchment covered with notes.

"That your choices must be steeped in sympathy and empathy goes without saying," Gideon went on, "and that your decisions are made in a spirit of kindness, compassion, justice, and love. More than ever before, this is the time for you to come to the aid of your peers when they are in need. It will be classified as protection of the innocent. You are free to use all the magic at your command; in fact, you are encouraged to do so. Your memory of spells – of herbs, crystals, and incantations – will thus be honed.

"But it is your actions – when, where, and how you choose to use your gifts – that will most decide the outcome," Gideon added pointedly.

That was part one of his Initiation. Doing the Right Thing, it could have been called.

And then he was to be summoned back up There for part two, which Harry instantly dubbed the Q and A.

Up There, in the Hall of Elders with the entire Whitelighter community looking on, any Elder could ask him any question about anything to do with heritage, powers, and magic.

From alchemy to zircon, a false diamond not approved as a spiritual stone, he was expected to know the history, ingredients, purposes, and powers of every spell, and when and how to use them.

After each question, Gideon explained, the Elders would vote on how well he'd done. And whether he'd made the grade.

"Exactly when will it take place?" Harry wondered.

"You will be called at the auspicious moment," Gideon answered mysteriously.

Just as Harry was about to ask what would happen if he blew a question or two, Gideon delivered one last Initiation bulletin: There was a part three to the proceedings.

And it wasn't going to be anything as simple as an essay or practical exam.

No quills to ink up, no time limit, no teachers pacing the aisles. No chance to prepare either because, as it turned out, he would not even be _told_ the topic of part three beforehand.

Chris tried to coax Gideon into revealing some small bit of information on the final phase, but Gideon was adamant about sticking to the rules created by the Elders.

"We will not discuss that now," he announced firmly.

Whatever that part of his examination was, Harry would have to deal with that later. Not knowing was the worst, as far as Harry was concerned. He couldn't prepare in any way. Not that it would be the first time that happened. All his battles with Voldemort pretty much came with no warning. And he hadn't supposed to have known about the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, but Hag rid, with Ron's help, had at least let that slip a few days before the date of the task.

"What if I… you know… fail?" he'd worked up the nerve to ask.

"You can take the test again," Chris assured him. "In fact, your dad's friend Peter Pettigrew took it several times --"

"Yes, but as with that pitiful wizard, your powers will be diminished," Gideon informed him. "Some of them will weaken after the first failure. And more will be lost after any later failures, until --"

"Until I have no magic left?" Harry asked weakly.

Reluctantly, Chris said, "Yes."

Trying to lighten the mood, Harry decided to cut right to the chase. "What happens if I pass?"

"Your powers will increase. You will be able to help more and more people in need --"

"No longer a fledgling, you will be welcomed into the wizarding society as an equal," Gideon announced. "Our ancient and powerful community will nurture and protect you as long as you live."

"So that's it?" Harry turned to Chris. "I get spied on at home and do a Q and A here and I'm in?"

Before his Whitelighter could reply, Gideon slapped his hand down on his desk and stood up, causing Harry to swiftly face him again. "Harry James Potter!" His full name rolled like thunder in the room. "As I told you, there will be one more test to face. It will tell us how well you handle… new situations. Situations that will present the most difficult yet valuable challenges you'll ever face."

"Why does it have to be a secret?" Harry blurted, his nerves getting the best of him. "Can't you at least tell me what it will be like?"

Gideon sighed mightily. "Albus Dumbledore, in his extremely bewildering wisdom, wished this on me," the middle-aged Elder murmured. "That I should view and guide you during this momentous time. Why, is anyone's guess." He drew a deep breath. "As I said, your Initiation begins exactly a year from today on the first of July and you will culminate here on this plane. I look forward to it. You will be summoned at the proper time. For now, return to your relatives' home, study hard in your final year of school, and enjoy as much as you can in your free time."

"So then Hogwarts…?"

Gideon nodded. "Yes, despite the horrors of last year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will remain open under a new Headmistress."

"Not Umbridge?"

Chris laughed. "Are you kidding? None of the school governors wanted Umbridge back in the Head's position. After I told them what she tried to do to you with the Veritaserum and the Cruciatus Curse, not to mention the physical abuse --" He glanced down at the very white scars on the back of Harry's right hand that read "I must not tell lies." "—like hell she'd be allowed back. I'm surprised she's still working at the Ministry."

Harry grinned despite of himself. It was comforting to know that Chris had been outraged by her unusual treatment of him and had taken action against her. Harry was now sure that Chris would be a valuable person to have around.

Harry and Chris stood up. Gideon held out his hand and both Harry and Chris took turns shaking it. "It was good to meet you, Harry."

"And you, as well," said Harry with a polite smile.

"Chris will orb you back to your bedroom. Enjoy the rest of your summer," said Gideon.

Chris lead the way out of the office and back down the corridor. He opened the wooden door into the ethereal entrance corridor. Harry took a last look around, but didn't see Ron or Hermione anywhere. They must have still been in their meetings or maybe back at the house all ready. Chris took his charge's arm and orbed him back to the bedroom at number four Privet Drive. It, too, was empty except for the two of them.

"Well, I've got to run. I was only supposed to take you to the meeting and get you back here. So unless you've got questions, I'll leave," said Chris.

"Actually, I do have one, but it might be a bit too personal," said Harry.

"Yeah, sure," replied Chris.

Harry hesitated, then asked, "How'd you die?"

Chris didn't answer immediately. He seemed to be pondering the question. Finally, he said, "The Avada Kedavra. I was caught up in a fight against a powerful wizard and I got in way over my head. The last thing I remember is him raising his wand to me. The next thing I knew, I was floating, surrounded by Whitelighters who offered me immortality and the chance to help others like me."

Harry nodded. So he had been killed by a dark wizard, just like so many others. He was fiercely reminded of Voldemort's most recent actions. "I really need to find a way to kill him," he muttered, mainly to himself but Chris heard anyway.

"Who, Voldemort?" asked Chris. "Yeah, I know. I was filled in on the prophecy once I was assigned to you. But don't worry. I'm sure it'll all work out all right in the end."

"Thanks." Harry smiled. "So, when's the next time I'll see you?"

"Any time you need me. Just call out my name and I'll hear you," said Chris. "See you soon." And he orbed out of the bedroom.

Harry sat down on the bed and sighed. He probably should have been getting ready for bed -- Ron and Hermione would scold him when they got back – but he couldn't help thinking about what he'd been told. As if he didn't have enough things to worry about with tracking down the Horcruxes and Voldemort, now he had to study for an Initiation he might not even live to have. But he didn't have time to consider the matter more because at that moment, the door opened and Ron entered the room. And at that moment, Harry knew only one thing for sure.

It was going to be a _long_ night.


	4. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the New Legend of Show White

By Jake the Fearless Leader

Chapter Three

Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You

The next week was very hectic, especially for Hermione. Ron and Harry were pretty much left to themselves as Hermione poured over all her old textbooks from the past few years. As her Initiation began on the first of September, she had exactly two months to study. Of course, she'd admitted that she all ready had the hundred spells she needed, but she insisted that it wouldn't hurt to have a few more. She had suggested that the boys help her get ready, as it would help them in the long run. However, as Harry still had a whole year and Ron nine months, they opted not to ruin the summer by studying. Besides, if the Dursleys caught Harry with a spell book in his hand, they'd be making their way for the Burrow earlier than they anticipated.

Of course, the three of them were going to be leaving very shortly. Mrs. Weasley had written another note to Ron saying that she needed him as soon as possible, so they decided to head out right away. Mr. Weasley had gotten the Ministry to agree to hook up the Dursley's fireplace to the Floo Network for a day so that they could get to the Burrow safely with all three of their trunks.

The night before their departure, Ron and Harry were packing when a barn owl arrived with an official notice from the Ministry of Magic, saying that the second date of the Apparition Test was the first day of August, exactly one day after Harry's birthday, and that any student who's birthday fell between the twenty-second of April and the day of the test, plus any students who had failed the examination the first time, would be allowed to take the test if they so desired. As much as he hated Apparition, Harry decided that he might as well take the test. It would be useful during his journey to locate the Horcruxes. Ron, too, would be retaking the test, as he failed it the first time, so both of them made plans to attend the practice session three days after the wedding to sign up and get in some extra practice under the watchful eye of Ministry officials.

That night, Harry slept poorly again and awoke from a vivid dream, a combination of the nights that had haunted him since he was nearing his fifteenth birthday. Cedric's, Sirius', and Dumbledore's deaths rolled into one horrific nightmare of epic proportions. It took him a moment to realize that he had woken up crying softly and was now trembling furiously. As he tried to pull himself together, the horrible truths that he had been considering ever since Dumbledore's funeral had now interrupted his thoughts once more.

James and Lily, his parents who he'd only known for a brief year and three months yet didn't even remember, were murdered by Voldemort trying to protect him.

Sirius, his godfather, had gone to the Ministry of Magic because he was in danger and met his end in the Death Chamber.

Dumbledore, the wise wizard who'd known and protected him his entire life, was dead, murdered by Severus Snape, a man Dumbledore had trusted beyond all measure.

He had no one to rely on now but himself.

It was then that Harry decided. Yes, he would stay with the Weasleys until his Apparition test. And after the exam, whether he passed or not, he would leave immediately for Godric's Hollow, alone. He wouldn't tell Ron or Hermione he was going. He had been thrilled when they insisted that they were going to follow him, but he couldn't let them do it. They deserved to be happy, _together_ and happy. He wouldn't risk their safety one more time. They meant too much to him.

These thoughts were still obsessing Harry, messing with his mind as he headed down the stairs with his trunk the following morning. It was eleven forty-five a.m. He, Ron, and Hermione would be leaving for the Burrow in less than fifteen minutes. He had spent the entire morning taking a tour of number four, Privet Drive, knowing that this was the last time he'd ever be back here. After his seventeenth birthday, Harry would be an adult and the magic that his mother's blood had provided for him here would no longer work. As much as he hated to admit it, he was actually going to miss living here. He'd been part of the Dursleys lives for sixteen years, ten of which had been without going to Hogwarts for most of the year. Worst of all, he was surprised to be a little unwilling to leave the only relatives he had behind.

Harry gasped as a hand grabbed his left arm. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wand, and pointed it directly at the person's heart.

"Whoa, whoa! It's okay! It's me." Hermione. Looking more terrified than Harry had seen her when facing his wrath.

"Dear God, Hermione. Don't ever do that again." Harry lowered his wand, glaring angrily at her. In truth, he wasn't mad at her. He just wanted her to think that. But Hermione was one of the few people he couldn't completely fool.

"Sorry. Should have known you'd react like that," she said with a smile. "What's wrong?" she added, frowning suddenly. "You look like you're about to bolt."

Grinning inwardly at her ability to know what he was thinking, he shook his head. "You just scared me, that's all."

"That is not all and you know it," she said quietly. "Now what exactly is going on?"

Harry sighed. "It's nothing, really. I'm probably just being stupid."

"Let me guess, you didn't realize how much you'd actually come to think of this as your home?" Hermione guessed correctly. "It's only natural. There may be no love-lost, but the Dursleys are still your family. They'll always have a place in your heart, even if they're not the most important people in your life."

"Yeah, I guess. I will miss them," Harry admitted softly. Ron came down the stairs with his trunk at that point, so Harry had to whisper, "Don't tell Ron, though. He'll never understand."

She smiled and nodded in agreement as Ron turned to them. "Well, let's get going, shall we?" he said.

"Yeah, I guess so," said Harry. The three of them grabbed their trunks and went into the Dursleys nice clean living room. For as long as he lived, Harry knew he would never forget how Aunt Petunia would complain about keeping it clean.

"All right. Ron, you go first and let them know we're coming," said Hermione. "Harry and I will be right behind you."

Ron nodded and removed a little bag of Floo Powder. He tossed it into the fireplace and the flames turned bright green. He stepped inside and shouted, "The Burrow!" He was gone within seconds.

"I'll go next, so you can have some privacy," said Hermione, gazing over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to see that all three Dursleys had entered the room. She walked into the green flames, shouted "The Burrow!", and was gone.

There was silence for a moment. Finally, Harry said, "Well, I guess this is it." He paused, thinking of what else he could say. These three people had made his life here miserable and yet, without their protection, he probably would have been dead a long time ago. "Look, before I go, I want to tell you three something. For the first ten years that I was here, you did everything in your power to break me, to stop me from fulfilling my destiny. After I got into school, you continued to make my life a living hell. Then there were the summers that you completely ignored me, which I actually liked the best. I thought I would be thrilled to finally leave here and never come back."

"Then why don't you?" said Uncle Vernon loudly.

"Because I want to tell you all something and I want you to know that I mean this with all my heart. Thank you."

"For what?" demanded Uncle Vernon, looking like he suspected something.

"For everything. You took me in as a baby and, no matter how reluctantly, you made me a part of this family. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't have survived against Lord Voldemort this long."

This last comment was directed at Aunt Petunia and it seemed that Dudley and Uncle Vernon didn't have a clue what he was talking about. But Aunt Petunia's emotionless expression suddenly changed. She almost looked like she cared, or at least like she knew what he was talking about.

"I know that it couldn't have been easy for any of you, having me for a surrogate son and brother. What, with all the owls and magic that has been in this --"

"HOW MANY TIMES MUST I TELL YOU NOT TO SAY THOSE WORDS IN THIS HOUSE?!" roared Uncle Vernon, moving to advance on his nephew. But he didn't get far. Aunt Petunia placed her hand on his arm, which made him turn to look at her. Her expression was suddenly one of regret and sorrow.

"No, Vernon. Not this time," she said softly. She walked over to her nephew, staring at him as though she'd never quite seen him properly before. Without warning, Aunt Petunia wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into what she thought must have passed for a warm hug (though it wasn't completely cold).

"Petunia?" asked Uncle Vernon in a stunned voice.

"Mum, have you gone mental?" Dudley said.

Harry was shocked for a moment himself, but he quickly recovered and hugged her back. When she pulled away, he was surprised to feel his eyes were burning. Was he really about to start crying?

"Harry, there is nothing for you to blame yourself for. The truth is, I failed. I promised my mother that I would protect Lily if anything were to happen to her. I never intended to fulfill that promise. When she died and you arrived at our doorstep, I treated you like you were a burden. In truth, I could barely look at you. You were a constant reminder of the lie I told Mum so long ago. At first, I thought that because you looked more like that man she married, it wouldn't bother me, but I could never escape from your eyes."

Aunt Petunia sighed and continued, "You will always be part of this family, Harry. Any time you need a place to stay, our door is always open."

"Petunia --"

"I will talk to you later, Vernon," said Aunt Petunia in a low voice. She turned back to Harry once more. "Keep in touch."

"I will," Harry promised, and he meant it. He turned and dragged his trunk into the emerald flames. With one last look at the Dursley family, he shouted, "The Burrow!"

Much later, Harry felt safe and warm… a familiar man was nearby, whispering… what? It sounded so familiar that Harry strained to listen.

_"On the wind, cross the sea. Hear this song and remember. Soon you'll be home with me. Once upon a December."_

Someone was singing, stroking his head softly. The light touched his face, so it was obviously daylight. The feeling of safety and warmth increased greatly.

"It's about time you woke up. We were worried about you," said a familiar hoarse voice.

"Why?" Harry murmured drowsily.

"Because you looked so pale." Harry gazed up. It was Remus Lupin, one of his father's old school friends and his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. They were in Ron's room at the Burrow, Harry lying down on a cot.

Lupin smiled down at him from his seat at the end of Harry's bed. "You look confused."

"How long have I been here?" asked Harry, sitting up and running a hand through his messy hair.

"You were exhausted when you arrived yesterday and went straight to bed. So, not very long at all," said Remus.

Arrived yesterday? That's right. After leaving the Dursleys, Harry had been harassed by all the members of the Weasley family. Mrs. Weasley had hugged him so hard she caused Harry's wounded abdomen to act up and the three arrivals had to quickly explain about Harry being shot. When he and Ron went upstairs to the bedroom to put their trunks down, Harry had felt unexplainably tired. He'd only planned to lie down and close his eyes for a moment, but he must have fallen asleep.

Harry pulled the covers off himself and went over to his trunk. "So, what's been going on?" he asked.

"It's been quiet since Dumbledore died. We haven't had much to do," said Lupin, watching Harry carefully. "What about you? How have you been?"

"Fine," Harry lied quickly. "Everything's great."

"Harry, I was your once your teacher. I can tell when you're lying to me," said Lupin seriously. "What's been going on?"

Harry sighed. "A lot, to tell you the truth. You obviously all ready know about how I was shot, but that was only a small incident."

"Speaking of which, before I forget, Molly removed the stitches while you were sleeping, so you don't have to go back to get them out," said Remus.

"Really? I'll have to thank her." Harry was quiet while he took off his nightshirt and replaced it with a navy blue shirt. But Lupin didn't say anything else to change the subject, so Harry knew that he would have to continue. "I can't get rid of the nightmares."

"Of what happened the night Dumbledore died?" Lupin asked.

"Not just those. I keep revisiting the graveyard where Voldemort was reborn… and I keep seeing Sirius and hearing his voice…" Tears started to form in Harry's eyes. He kept his face away from Lupin, not wanting him to see his weakness. Any more input and he would completely lose it.

But Lupin's werewolf senses must have alerted him because the next thing he knew, Harry had been turned to face Lupin and the man's hands were resting gently on his shoulders. Lupin's eyes were shining, too, from tears. But they were different. Mournful, yes, but full of love. For Harry?

He finally did lose it. Three years of held back tears, Harry having been fighting them on and off since the day after he'd returned to Hogwarts with Cedric's body, finally broke through the dam. He clutched his stomach and broke into wracking sobs, a full-out composure collapse.

Lupin embraced him, hushing him in soft and smooth tones. He'd had a feeling that this would happen sooner or later. Harry was hurting too much. He couldn't have held back much longer. But the next words out of Harry's mouth not only broke Lupin's heart, but shook him to the core.

"I am sorry… So sorry that I couldn't save them…"

"It wasn't your fault, Harry," Lupin whispered softly.

"Yes, it was… I told Cedric that we should take the cup together… he shouldn't have even been there… And if I hadn't fallen for Voldemort's trap, Sirius wouldn't have been in the Department of Mysteries…"

"You couldn't have known any of those things were going to happen," whispered Lupin.

"Dumbledore trusted me… he expected me to help him… he told me that he wasn't worried because I was there… and I failed…"

"Harry, no." Lupin pulled Harry away from him and looked into his teary green eyes. "Dumbledore immobilized you for a reason. He didn't want you getting hurt. If he hadn't done that, you might have been seriously injured or worse. There is nothing for you to blame yourself for. You could not have done anything to prevent what happened. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," whispered Harry, looking at Lupin as though he had never seen him before.

Lupin released Harry and started for the door. "Molly's probably got breakfast ready by now. I'll let you finish getting dressed."

"Remus?"

Lupin froze in his tracks. For a moment, he thought he had heard his long dead friend calling him. But when he turned, he saw only Harry standing there, waiting for a response. And in the moment that Lupin realized it was Harry who had spoken and not James, he fully understood just how much like his father the boy was.

"Yes?" he said finally, when he had found his voice again.

Harry smiled. Finally, a sign that it was okay to call him by his first name without getting into trouble for it. "Thank you."

Lupin nodded and left the room. Harry quickly finished getting dressed and headed downstairs. He could hear voices from the living room and the kitchen. He decided to enter the living room to see who was there. Hermione and Ron were arguing on the sofa about S.P.E.W. Mrs. Weasley was just entering the room from the kitchen, carrying a piece of parchment, and was the first one to see him.

"Harry, dear. How are you feeling?" she asked, making Ron and Hermione looked up from their argument.

"I'm fine," Harry said.

"Check out what I found in the attic," said Ginny Weasley as she came down the stairs.

Harry couldn't help but stare at her. She was just as pretty as the day he had broken up with her. Ginny's long flaming-red hair was gleaming. Her choice of clothing had changed since he'd last seen her. She was wearing a wrinkled blue T-shirt and a pair of weathered cut-offs that looked as though they'd been made from jeans that she'd had for a long while. Ginny noticed that he'd seen her and she gave him a very warm smile.

"I hope it's something blue because we all ready have old, borrowed, and new," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Is Calandra Owens-Weasley's handkerchief blue enough?" asked Ginny, holding up the sky blue cloth.

Hermione went over to her and took it in her hands. She looked at it carefully, as though examining it. "That is very cool," she said finally.

"Yeah, what could be better than to give Phlegm – I mean, Fleur – the actual handkerchief that our favorite ancestor wore over her head at her wedding," said Ginny excitedly.

"Uncle Thomas says she was a traitor to the family," Ron reminded her.

"Yeah, but that's just because he's into all that 'orphans are savages' garbage," said Ginny disgustedly. "Let's face it, she was the only one in our family who didn't buy into all that nonsense, except for our little family unit right here."

They had learned about the discrimination of the orphans in History of Magic in their fifth year. However, since much of the story was merely speculation and not based upon solid facts, Professor Binns had refused to spend more than one day on the subject. As far as Harry knew, it hadn't even appeared on the O.W.L. examination. The second the class had ended, Ron had admitted that most of his family held a firm belief that orphans were what they called "savages," but that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had raised their sons and daughter not to be prejudice just because of something like "lack of parents."

"Hmm, all right, I can check that off. Now all I need is help moving the buffet table," said Mrs. Weasley, making a note on her parchment with a quill pen.

"Harry, can I talk to you for a moment? Alone, if you don't mind," asked Ginny pointedly. He knew exactly what she wanted to see him about, so he agreed. They went outside and walked over to the broomstick shed. Once they were inside, Ginny made sure the door was locked.

"Hope you don't mind, I don't want to be overheard," she said, "so I asked Hermione to put a Imperturbable spell over the door."

"Ginny, let's just skip the small talk. I know what this is about," said Harry.

"It's just that I was thinking over the summer and I think that we shouldn't just cut off our relationship. I love you too much and I know you still love me," said Ginny.

Harry couldn't lie to her. "Of course I do. I don't think I'll ever stop. But Ginny, I won't allow you to get hurt."

"I understand, Harry, and I am perfectly willing to wait for you. So let's just say that we're on a break, that we haven't broken up yet we aren't exactly together either. This way, I'm not in any danger of being used by Voldemort."

Harry had to admit, it made sense. "Ginny…" he whispered.

She leaned forward and kissed him. He gladly kissed her back. He pulled her closer. She wrapped her arms around him and found the edge of his shirt. A part of him wanted to stop her, but the other part of him won over. He just couldn't stop. She was so beautiful…

***

Dinner that evening was extremely awkward. Harry and Ginny did not speak to anyone or look at anyone else in the room. If they were asked a question or spoken to, they would answer, but neither of them would make eye contact. Neither of them wanted to face the consequences of their actions should they get caught.

Not that Harry was ashamed. It had been the most rewarding, exciting, and memorable moment of his life so far. Nothing could have prepared him for the rush of joy and passion that had taken over his body for that short hour. It had definitely made him realize that he did not just like Ginny; he was hopelessly in love with her. And he didn't mind that he had lost his virginity with her. If anything, it sealed the pact that they would wait for each other, no matter how long it took.

Over the course of the next few days leading to the wedding, everyone was busy. Everything on Mrs. Weasley's checklist needed to be taken care of before four o'clock on the nineteenth of July, when the wedding would take place. This meant that food had to be either made or ordered, chairs needed to be counted for the number of guests that would be coming, and the members of the Delacour family needed to find places to stay, as they were coming all the way from France. Fortunately, the bride's family traditionally paid for the wedding and the reception after the wedding, so the fact that the Weasleys could not have afforded it didn't matter.

The wedding was going to be held in the fields nearby the Burrow. Fleur had instantly fell in love with them when Bill had brought her to the Burrow for the first time and so he agreed that it would be fine to have the wedding outdoors. On the day before the wedding, Mrs. Weasley sent Harry and Ron to see how Hermione and Ginny were doing with the wedding arch that had just arrived. They walked out of the house and towards the fields where the wedding was to be held. At the edge of the aisle between the white chairs, Harry saw Hermione and Ginny working together to put up the floral arch. Standing by them was an elderly woman. She had flaming red hair that was mostly gray and wore an ivory gown. She looked very regal and important.

"Okay, that should do it," said Ginny as she and Hermione stepped away. Today, she was all about stark black. Tight black jeans, black work boots, and a black Spandex T-shirt. The only touch of color in her wardrobe was her red hair, which was tied in a braid today. The only touch of makeup she was wearing was eyeliner, but it looked as though she'd rubbed her eyes because it was all smushed. It didn't matter; Harry still thought she looked beautiful.

"I'm thinking more to the left. Uh, is this the biggest arch your mother could get?" asked the woman, almost rudely.

"Ugh," Ginny groaned.

"Without opening a fast food franchise, yeah," replied Hermione.

"Well, just remember, if love is the quest then marriage is the conquest. This place must be like victory," the old woman said.

"And here I though weddings were supposed to be romantic," said Ginny with a grin.

"Better listen to her, Ginny. I mean, you could always calculate her age by the number of boyfriends she had," said Ron.

Ginny laughed as the woman turned to the two approaching boys. "Ronald," she greeted and went over to pull him into a hug.

"Hey, Grandma," said Ron, hugging her back.

Ron's grandmother pulled away as she said, "So let me get this straight, you have been seventeen for four months now and you didn't think to summon me for a chat. I am highly insulted."

"I haven't summoned Grandpa either."

"Oh, you," she said, smacking his arm gently, a playful smile on her face.

"Oh, uh… Grandma, I don't think you've met Harry yet," said Ron, nodding for the raven haired boy to come over. Harry instantly took the hint.

"Ah, yes. The Boy Who Lived…" Ron's grandmother held out her hand, which Harry took politely. "I am Monica Weasley."

"Nice to meet you," Harry replied, noting that she was staring at him curiously.

"Yes… well, I know all about you, of course. Indeed, there is barely a minute that goes by that I don't hear something about what you've been up to," said Monica.

"But Grandma, you died before Harry became famous and according to the laws, you're not allowed to view anyone but your own family members," said Ginny in confusion.

"Ginny, dear, that doesn't mean we can't communicate with each other. I mean, for goodness sakes, not a day goes by when I don't see every member of the dead community, whether ghost or spirit," said the supposedly dead woman. "It would be a very boring afterlife indeed if we didn't. And we're always catching up on the news here in the living world."

"That must be fascinating, all those spirits in one place," said Hermione in awe.

"There is nothing like it," said Monica with a smile. "In fact, the last I heard before coming down here was that those two men were plotting some sort of scheme and she was complaining about them. Oh, I can't tell you how horrible it's been since those two got back together. It's like they're kids all over again."

"Who's that?" Harry asked as they all looked at her with great interest.

"Um… sorry, dear. I'm afraid I can't tell you. You and Ginny are still underage and as you're still unable to perform séances, you can't really know anything about spirits and life after death and all that."

"But won't you get in trouble for telling us anything in front of them, then?" asked Hermione worriedly.

"Have you never heard of the Memory Charm? Neither of them will remember anything about this conversation come tomorrow," said Monica cheerfully. Ginny looked indignant and Harry couldn't help but agree with her. He was going to be seventeen at the end of the month, so why did he have to forget the conversation at all?

"All right, wedding arch is done." Ginny took out another copy of the list that Mrs. Weasley had written up and crossed the arch off it, yawning in the process. "The next thing to do on the To Do List is…"

"Sleep. You've been yawning all day," said Hermione.

"Try all week," sighed Ginny, shrugging her shoulders.

At that point, Bill Weasley walked over to them and took a look around. This was the first time that Harry had seen him up close since he'd been attacked by Fenrir Greyback. The scars on his face didn't look so bad now that the wound had closed, but it was still hard to tell that it was Bill under them.

Monica saw her oldest grandson instantly. "Bill, sweetie, well, what do you think?"

"It's – it's beautiful," he said with a broad grin.

"Yeah, and the best part about it is, it's finally happening," said Ginny happily.

Bill sighed. "Flowers and bows and Grandma. The only thing missing is…"

"Percy?" Hermione asked tentatively. No one ever brought up the third Weasley son if they could help it.

"Grandma, are you sure that you can't do…" began Bill.

"No, nothing. Percy would have to summon me in order for me to talk to him. I'm only here because you need a high priestess. They want me back by the witching hour tomorrow," explained Monica sadly.

"I thought maybe this could help," said Ginny, pointing to a picture of Percy on one of the chairs.

"You okay?" Ron asked his older brother.

"Yeah, I just can't believe how close I came to sabotaging my own wedding," said Bill.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Well, with the whole werewolf thing, I told myself that if one more thing went wrong then it just maybe wasn't meant to be," Bill told them, gesturing to his mutilated face.

"Oh, darling, there's no need to think that way. I mean, you made it," assured Monica.

"Yeah, and I will personally butt kick anything that tries to ruin it for you," said Ginny, failing to stifle another yawn fast enough before Harry saw it.

"Not if you're asleep you won't. Come on. I'm taking you back to the house," said Harry, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the site of the wedding.

"Sweet dreams. Bye," Hermione called after them.

"I'll see you tomorrow at four o'clock, dear," said Monica.

***

Harry was alone in the bedroom that night while getting ready for bed. As he slipped into his pajamas, he was humming a song that he'd known for a couple of years now. It was from a Tom Hanks movie and the song featured in it shared the same title as the movie, "That Thing You Do." For the last few years, he had started listening to music on the beat up radio in his bedroom at the Dursleys. He'd found plenty of songs on there that he liked to listen to.

"'Cause we could be happy, can't you see? If you'd only let me be the one to hold you and keep you hear with me. 'Cause it hurts me so just to see you go around with someone new. And if I know you, you're doing that thing… Every day, just doing that thing… I can't take you doing that thing you do."

Someone giggled from behind him. Harry whirled around, his heart racing. It was Ginny, wearing a wrinkled flannel shirt and side-striped sweats. Her hair was down now and her face was completely clean of makeup. It appeared as though she was ready for bed.

"How long have you been standing there?" Harry asked as casually as he could, well aware that his face was heating up by the second.

"Long enough to hear that wonderful voice of yours. Why didn't you tell me you could sing?" Ginny stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

"Because it's private. Trust me, not even Ron and Hermione know," Harry shrugged.

"So I'm the only one who knows?" said Ginny with a smile. "Is that the privilege of being your girlfriend?"

"One of the many, I would say," said Harry, smiling back at her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. But then he frowned. "Hey, we're both going to be dead if Ron catches you in here."

"Oh, like I really care about what he thinks. I don't need his permission to kiss you goodnight." Ginny leaned over and planted a kiss right on Harry's lips. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night. Sweet dreams," Harry said, watching her open the door and leave. Harry climbed into bed and a few minutes later, Ron came up.

***

Harry woke up bright and early the next morning. They still had plenty of things to do before the wedding that afternoon. It was up to those who weren't in the wedding party to make sure everything was set up and ready for the guests to arrive. This meant that all the Weasley children were excluded, since Bill had asked all his brothers to be ushers for him (Charlie was the best man.)

As the wedding drew closer and closer, Harry disappeared up into Ron's room to change into his dress robes. As soon as he was done, he left the room and headed downstairs. Hermione was waiting for him just outside. "Harry, do you mind sitting with me at the wedding? I mean, Ron and Ginny will both be in the ceremony and we really don't know anyone else here besides the Order."

"Yeah, sure. I don't mind," said Harry with a smile. They started to walk across to the field.

"By the way, Ginny told me what happened that day in the shed," said Hermione.

Harry was startled. She knew? Was she about to start ranting? "And?" he asked apprehensively.

"Well, I don't approve of the whole sex thing, but I can appreciate that you two really didn't have much control over the situation," she said coolly. After a moment, she added, "I'm not going to yell at you, so you can stop worrying."

"How did you know I was worrying?" asked Harry.

"I don't know. It seems to be happening a lot lately. I just keep getting these strange vibes from people. It comes and goes. There are times where it's almost unbearable to feel it. I don't exactly know why I'm feeling these things, but I am doing some reading, trying to figure it out. Who knows? I may have to find the book in Diagon Alley."

"So, I've wanted to ask you since yesterday. How is it that Ron's grandmother is conducting the ceremony?" asked Harry.

Hermione gave him an odd sort of look. "You remember her?" she asked.

This seemed like such a strange question that Harry laughed. "Yeah, she was commenting on the wedding arch when Ron and I showed up. Then Bill came, we talked for a while, and I took Ginny back to the house so she could get some rest and that's when she told me that she'd be marrying Bill and Fleur."

"But you don't remember anything of the conversation that took place before Bill arrived?" said Hermione.

Harry gave her a strange look. "There was no conversation. Bill showed up right after she said that she was the family matriarch. Is that how she's able to perform the wedding?"

"Yes. She's standing in as high priestess for the Handfasting. It doesn't always happen like that, though, and I'm sure the Elders had to give special permission, considering matriarchs and patriarchs are only supposed to be around for Wiccaning ceremonies," said Hermione, quickly masking her surprise.

They fell silent after that. Hermione was lost in though about the whole spirits conversation from the day before. Monica was right. Harry didn't remember anything about it and she felt certain that Ginny wouldn't remember, either. She had wondered why Lupin hadn't left the Burrow the night before until Harry had gone to bed. It must have been up to the parents of the underage witch or wizard to cast the Memory Charm on them. Since Harry's parents and legal guardian were dead, the task must have fallen to Lupin.

The chairs before the wedding arch were all ready pretty full when they got there, but they quickly spotted two empty seats near Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. They walked over and sat down next to them. "So is everything going okay?" asked Hermione.

"So far, so good," said Lupin, turning to them.

"We were just commenting on the weather," Tonks told them. "It's a lucky thing or the whole wedding would have had to be moved to somewhere indoors and that would be a big task."

Harry and Hermione laughed. It was good to see Tonks was back to her old self, purple hair and all. Apparently all she needed was Lupin in her life.

Monica approached the center of the arch at that moment. "Places, places everyone. It's show time," she called over the noise of the crowd and those who were lingering got to their seats. Bill and Charlie stood on the right side of their grandmother. Even though his face was heavily scarred from the attack of the night Dumbledore died, Bill still looked like a very handsome groom. Or at least, that's what Hermione had whispered in Harry's ear. But Harry did notice that he was happier than he had seen him in days.

Charlie looked at the wedding arch over his head. "All right, is the sun the best we can do on the lights?" he asked.

Suddenly, a cloud of sparkling lights appeared above Monica and Bill's heads. Harry turned to see Lance and Ivy Wilder and Chris Hunter. They'd come to see the wedding.

"That's more like it," said Charlie, smiling at Lance's light show.

Ivy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Harry could have sworn he saw her lips form the words, "Showoff."

Monica turned to the band and nodded her head. The band started the music.

First down the aisle was Fleur's mother. Mrs. Delacour looked just as impressive as her daughter. Then Harry remembered that Fleur was part veela and it was clear to see that her mother was, as well. It was also probably this reason that Mrs. Delacour was not escorted down the aisle. Behind her were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They were in traditional dress robes that were deep blue in color. Mrs. Weasley looked as though she was crying. Fred and George were next in their usher robes, followed by (to everyone's great surprise) Percy Weasley and Gabrielle Delacour. Harry and Hermione looked at each other. No one had expected to see Percy at the wedding, let alone in the wedding party. Ron and Ginny were next down the aisle. Harry couldn't help but stare at Ginny. She looked so beautiful in her pale gold bride's maid robes. Hermione blushed right next to him, unable to take her own eyes off of Ron.

Finally, Fleur and her father appeared at the back of the aisle. As she and Mr. Delacour started down the aisle, everyone stood up. In her white wedding gown, Fleur was just dazzling. They seemed to move slowly down the aisle towards Bill and Monica, but they finally made it there. Mr. Delacour kissed his daughter's hand and went to sit with his wife.

"They did it. It's really happening," said Hermione in a breathless voice.

Bill began to lift Fleur's veil over her head, but he had a little trouble. "Little help here," he muttered as she lifted her hands and tossed back the rest of it, giggling all the while.

Monica cleared her throat and everyone was seated once more. "We are gathered here today to unite two souls as one. Do you, William Weasley and Fleur Delacour, join us here of your own free will to acknowledge the eternal bong shared by both of you?"

Bill smiled. "I do."

"I do," Fleur answered likewise.

"You may face each other, join hands," said Monica. Bill and Fleur did just that. "Uh, William, you may recite your vows."

Bill heaved a deep sigh and began. His words seemed to flow over the entire congregation, but Harry was only half listening. This was reminding him of the picture of his parents' wedding in his photo album. The two of them must have had the same wedding ceremony that Bill and Fleur were having now. Or did every family have a different wedding tradition?

"Fleur," Monica said as Bill finished his vows.

Fleur began her vows and, though she spoke with her heavy French accent, her words were easy to understand. Once again, Harry was barely listening. He had a sudden pain in his chest from thinking about his parent's wedding. He didn't want to show his weakness to his friends and tried to draw himself back to the present and what was actually happening. Hermione must have sensed it, though, because she took his hand and squeezed it before putting her head on his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Ron was watching them. By the time Harry turned to look, Ron was facing his brother and new sister-in-law, but his ears were still red and his face was forcefully calmed.

"Here before witnesses, William and Fleur have sworn their vows towards each other," Monica continued. She picked up a rope and wrapped it around the couple's held hands, loosely tying them together. "With this cord, I bind them to these vows."

As soon as Monica was finished, Bill and Fleur looked at each other and spoke together. "Heart to thee, body to thee, always and forever, so may it be."

Monica nodded. "So may it be."

"So may it be," echoed the congregation.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bill, kiss her fast," said Monica.

Bill and Fleur smiled, laughed, and drew close in a romantic kiss. As they pulled apart, Monica announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs. William Weasley!"

The entire congregation applauded. Hermione wiped her eyes. Mrs. Weasley was weeping openly. The wedding party made their way back down the aisle. Once they were gone, the congregation started to move back to the Weasley's back yard for the reception.

***

The reception started beautifully. The band announced the bridal party and the newly weds to start off the festivities and after that, everyone stood around talking for a while. It wasn't until the first dance started up that the band started having problems. Apparently, the singer who was going to perform the bride and groom's song hadn't shown up and none of the band members could sing very well.

"Let's not panic," Bill said to his new wife when the band manager came up to him and Fleur as Harry and Ginny were offering their congratulations. "We don't need the lyrics, right?"

"Well, I guess so, but zat's one of ze few American songs I like and eet's only because of ze original singer," sighed Fleur.

"What's the song?" asked Harry.

"Frankie Valli 'Can't Take My Eyes Off of You,'" said the band manager.

"Harry, you know that song, don't you?" asked Ginny, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Harry caught on immediately. "Gin, we talked about this," he hissed.

"And I've all ready told you that you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Bill, Fleur, Harry could do it. He knows all the lyrics and he has an amazing voice."

"Ginny, no! I don't sing in public. Never have, never will," said Harry defiantly.

"Oh, please 'arry. You don't know what eet would mean to me," pleaded Fleur. He caught a strange scent that smelled strongly of mistletoe and plumeria. Harry knew that this must have been the scent that signaled Fleur's veela power, but for some reason he didn't feel himself falling for her.

"Nice try, Fleur, but I don't sing in front of people," said Harry with a smile. She seemed a bit stunned and the strange scent disappeared.

"Is there a way Harry could sing and not be seen?" Bill asked the band manager.

"Well, we could set the microphone up behind the stage and say that it's a recording, but I don't know how many people would believe that," said the band manager.

"No, that's way too much trouble." Harry sighed. "It's not like there are any _Prophet_ reporters here or anybody who might let it leak to the press, right?"

"Well, my family wouldn't," said Bill.

"My family does not care about such trivial things," said Fleur in agreement with what Bill said.

"What about Percy?" asked Harry.

"Unless he wants to be hexed, then I don't think so," said Ginny defiantly.

"All right, I'll do it," said Harry in resignation. Fleur gave him a big hug and she and Bill moved to greet some other guests.

Ginny went to find Ron and Hermione while Harry went with the band manager over to the band. "All right, we've got another singer," he told them before turning back to Harry. "You ready?"

"Yeah. Let's get it over with," said Harry.

"What key?" asked one of the band members.

"I don't know what that means," said Harry.

"Kenny, do a couple of scales. The rest of you, set up. We've got a show to do," said the band manager. The band agreed and started to set up while the keyboard player took Harry aside and asked him to sing exactly what he played. After a minute, they determined that the song should be played in the original key. Once they were all set and ready to go, the band manager stood before the microphone.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen," the band manager announced. "The bride and groom will now be dancing to their song, 'Can't Take My Eyes Off of You' by the legendary Frankie Valli!"

The invited guests applauded as Bill and Fleur moved to the center of the dance floor. As the music started, they began to dance slowly on the spot. Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves and began to sing.

"You're just too good to be true.

Can't take my eyes off of you.

You'd be like heaven to touch.

I wanna hold you so much.

At long last love has arrived

And I thank God I'm alive.

You're just too good to be true.

Can't take my eyes off of you."

Harry could hear light giggling. It was Ginny. Apparently, Ginny hadn't warned Ron that Harry was going to be singing because he had started choking on his water.

"Pardon the way that I stare.

There's nothing else to compare.

The sight of you leaves me weak.

There are no words left to speak.

But if you feel like I feel,

Please let me know that it's real.

You're just too good to be true.

Can't take my eyes off of you."

Harry had been nervous when he started, but that was starting to fade now. He felt himself starting to sway a little to the music. Relaxed now, he was ready to truly let loose and have fun.

"I love you, baby,

And if it's quite all right,

I need you, baby,

To warm the lonely night.

I love you, baby.

Trust in me when I say.

Oh, pretty baby,

Don't bring me down a play.

Oh, pretty baby,

Now that I found you stay

And let me love you, baby,

Let me love you.

You're just too good to be true.

Can't take my eyes off of you.

You'd be like heaven to touch.

I wanna hold you so much.

At long last love has arrived

And I thank God I'm alive.

You're just too good to be true.

Can't take my eyes off of you.

I love you, baby,

And if it's quite all right,

I need you, baby,

To warm the lonely night.

I love you, baby.

Trust in my when I say.

Oh, pretty baby,

Don't bring me down a play.

Oh, pretty baby,

Now that I found you stay

And let me love you, baby,

Let me love you.

You're just too good to be true."

The guests applauded politely. Harry's friends, however, were clapping loudly and Ginny was cheering loudly. Harry also thought he heard Gabrielle's voice. He grinned broadly – that was the best feeling he had ever had in his life!

As he moved to go over to his friends, Gabrielle ran up to him. "'arry! You were so wonderful!" she said happily, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Er… thanks," said Harry, who had not been expecting the sudden embrace. "So, how are you doing, Gabrielle?"

"Oh, I am doing very well," said Gabrielle excitedly.

"Harry."

Harry looked up and saw Ginny standing nearby. "Oh, Gin." He pulled himself away from Gabrielle and went over to her. "Gabrielle, I'm going to hang out with her for a while, so just come over if you want to talk, okay?"

"Okay. See you, 'arry," said Gabrielle, walking back towards her family.

Harry and Ginny went over to Ron and Hermione at the buffet table. The two of them seemed to be getting drinks. "Hey," he said as they approached.

"Well, if it isn't the Man of a Thousand Mysteries," said Hermione with a barely contained grin. "Since when do you sing?"

"That was a one time performance only, a favor for Bill and Fleur. It'll never happen again," said Harry, though he hoped that wasn't true.

"Honestly, you were pretty good," said Ron with a sincere grin. "Even Fred and George were impressed."

"Yet somehow it doesn't surprise me," said Lupin, coming over. "James had a brilliant singing voice. So did Lily, for that matter."

The reason for the appearance of Ivy, Lance, and Chris at the wedding decided to make itself known then. Chris came over at that time and went right over to Lupin. "Remus Lupin," he said.

"Chris? Is that you?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it's me," said Chris, holding out his hand to shake Remus' hand.

"It's been too long. How are you?" said Lupin as he took Chris' hand.

"Great, actually. I'm still working on that mission of mine, but the search has been narrowing down over the years. What about you?" said Chris. "I have a feeling that you will be taking a more active part in Harry's life now."

"Yes, you would be correct there," said Lupin in agreement.

Harry took a look around, seeing that Ivy was in the process of introducing herself to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Hermione and Lance were also with Ron, Ivy and the Weasleys.

The reception continued without any further interruptions. Bill and Fleur cut the cake right after dinner. As they were preparing to close the party, Fleur did the traditional throwing of the bridal bouquet. Ginny caught it, which made several things happen in quick precession. Ron's face contorted in anger, Hermione smiled in Harry's direction, and Harry felt heat rising rapidly to his face. Finally, Bill and Fleur set out for their honeymoon and the reception was over.

Ron was still raging about Ginny catching the bridal bouquet, but Harry was too distracted to care. That night, Harry's dreams were full of weddings. In all of them, Harry and Ginny were the bride and groom. Harry woke up the next morning, feeling strangely content and happy.


	5. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and the New Legend of Show White

By Jake the Fearless Leader

Chapter Four

Birthday Terror

Three days after the wedding were the Apparition practice sessions in Hogsmeade Village. They were starting at eight o'clock, so Ron and Harry got up early to get ready to go without disturbing the rest of the house. Mrs. Weasley woke up just so she could make a decent breakfast for them, so it was fifteen to eight when they were finally ready to go. They used the Floo Network to get to the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks pub.

They found other Hogwarts students gathered in the village's main square. "There were more people last time," said Ron.

"Well, most people had probably all ready turned seventeen," said Harry, looking around. He spotted Ernie Macmillian, who waved at Harry and Ron as soon as he saw them.

"Hello, Harry. Hello, Ron. Pretty good turn out. How's your summer been?" asked Ernie.

"Going okay so far," said Harry.

"Yes, and I must say I'm quite pleased that they decided to open the school again. Heard anything about who the new head is?" asked Ernie.

"Nope," said Ron indifferently. He had been planning to stay with Harry and was also not planning to go back to the school. Of course, Harry thought, Ron might change his mind once Harry took off.

The Apparition instructor from the Ministry, Wilkie Twycross, approached them all at that point. "Welcome, everyone. Now, I hope you all remember your lessons from last year. I want to first see how much you've forgotten over the past few months. What I want you all to do is line up in front of one of the wooden hoops."

Everyone hurried to do so. As Harry took his place between Ron and Ernie, he saw a familiar head of blonde hair pass by him. It was Draco Malfoy. Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe were following right behind him. Harry couldn't help but stare at him. How was he still able to wander around without anyone noticing him? While Harry wasn't about to turn him in – it wasn't like Malfoy had fired the Avada Kedavra – he had a strong feeling others wouldn't be too forgiving.

"All right. Now you are to try to Apparate into the hoops. Remember the three D's: Destination, Determination, and Deliberation. On my command… one --"

Harry felt Ron begin to tense next to him. Ernie's face was screwed tightly in concentration.

" – two – THREE!"

Harry spun around. He felt the familiarly horrible sensation as he was plunged into darkness. Every part of his body felt as though he was being compressed from all angles. He thought he was going to suffocate. Suddenly, the world returned to normal, as did his air supply. Looking down, Harry that he was standing inside the hoop. With a rush of success, he lifted his gaze and looked around him. He was the only one who was standing in the hoop. In fact, he seemed to be the only one who'd been able to do it successfully.

"Yes, well, I must say that we have not bothered practicing our three D's," said Twycross sternly, walking over to where Harry was standing. "However, one of us seems to have excelled beyond even my expectations. Very good, Mr. Potter, very good. Now, adjust your hoops and return to your original positions. We will go again."

Harry managed to Apparate just as perfectly on the second attempt while, once again, no body else had been able too. On the third attempt, Harry was one of a quarter of the students who'd managed to do it. The fourth attempt was more fruitful, with more than half of the students Apparating and only three students managing to splinch themselves. Finally, on the fifth attempt, everyone had managed to Apparate. This was the group that included Ron.

"Very well," said Twycross, waving his wand. The hoops vanished. "Now that we've once again mastered the basics, let's move on. Next up is Apparating to specific areas of the village. I will be calling you one at a time and in alphabetical order to perform the perfect Apparition in front of your peers and myself. First up is…"

The list moved along slowly, but at least every student seemed to be doing all right. The fourth student, a Ravenclaw girl Harry had never spoken to, ended up splinching herself due to nerves, but she was the only one who did so. Ernie Macmillian had actually Apparated to just a little past where he was supposed to go, but he still got credit for doing it. Malfoy had no problems Apparating to just outside of Zonko's Joke Shop, which was baring a large sign that said "Coming Soon – Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"

"Harry Potter," said Twycross finally. Harry walked over to him, not exactly nervous, but not too confident either. "Very well, then. Your destination is just outside of Honeyduke's Sweet Shop."

Harry nodded and focused his mind carefully on what the outside of the shop looked like. He took several deep, relaxing breaths before spinning on the spot. He needn't have worried, though. He appeared right before Honeyduke's, just as planned.

Ron didn't have as much luck. The first time he tried, he was so nervous that he merely fell flat on his back. Twycross gave him another chance, though, and that time he managed to do it. But he still had to endure taunts from some people in the crowd.

There were three more trials like that before the practice session was finally over. Twycross announced that they were all ready for the Apparition test of the first of August. Then he invited them for a quick drink inside the Three Broomsticks. Ron wasn't really in the mood, but Twycross had said that he wanted a word with Harry, so Ron decided to stay as well.

Inside the pub, Twycross spent the entire time talking to Harry about his perfection at Apparating. "It was quite remarkable. You must have your father's knack for it. Ah, yes. Why, I doubt even Ms. Granger from the last exam could have done better than you today."

By the time they were ready to leave the pub, Harry's face felt like it was sunburned. He refused to make eye contact with Ron, who he knew was scowling and sulking right next to him. They didn't speak to each other as they returned to the Burrow.

"Hey, there you two are," said Hermione as Ron and Harry entered the kitchen. Most of the family was there, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to serve lunch. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," said Harry as he sat down next to Ginny, causing Ron's scowl to grow darker still.

Of course, nothing got passed Hermione. "Er… how did it go for you, Ron?" she asked tentatively.

"Oh, just fine. Really, brilliant," said Ron aggressively, choosing a chair as far away from Harry as he could get.

"He had a bit of trouble," Harry told the two girls in a low voice. "Couldn't quite get it at first. He did all right after a while --"

"Don't bother finishing that sentence, Harry. I can do it for you. 'He did all right after a while, but I was perfect from the beginning of the session.' That's what you were going to say, right?" said Ron scathingly.

"Oh, here we go," sighed Ginny in exasperation.

"Ron, it wasn't my fault that I was able to Apparate a little faster than you were," said Harry gently. "It's not like I did it to hurt you."

But Ron just scoffed and took a big bite of his sandwich. Harry sighed, looking down at his own lunch. He was suddenly not interested in eating. He hated it when Ron was mad at him.

"Just let him calm down, Harry," whispered Hermione, as though she could sense his oncoming depression. "You know Ron. He'll be apologizing in no time."

Hermione was right. Ron had approached Harry right before dinner and apologized for acting so jealous. They spent the rest of the night talking about the Apparition test that was coming and the upcoming Quidditch matches while Hermione crammed for her Initiation.

The next morning, a handsome tawny owl arrived at breakfast. It was delivering an envelope addressed to Ginny from Hogwarts. Her O.W.L. test results. She was nervous as she took the letter and opened it up. Looking at it carefully for a few minutes, her face broke into a broad grin and she quickly handed the results to Harry. Wondering why she hadn't shown her mother first, Harry took a look at the piece of paper.

**O****RDINARY ****W****IZARDING ****L****EVEL****R****ESULTS**

_**Pass Grades**_

_Outstanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectations (E)  
Acceptable (A)_

_**Fail Grades**_

_Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)_

_**Ginevra Molly Weasley has achieved:**_

Astronomy ------- A  
Care of Magical Creatures ------- E  
Charms ------- E  
Defense Against the Dark Arts ------- O  
Herbology ------- E  
History of Magic ------- A  
Muggle Studies ------- E  
Potions ------- E  
Transfiguration ------- E

Harry grinned at her results. She'd received a total of eight O.W.L.s, one more than Harry, but he didn't care. He had taken Divination, not Muggle Studies. And now at least he knew why she had handed him the paper first. He had tutored her in Defense Against the Dark Arts right before the exam, considering she hadn't been performing well with Severus Snape as her teacher. Ginny had wanted him to know that it paid off.

"Gin, that's great," he said, leaning over and giving her a big hug. Ron glared at them, but thankfully didn't say anything.

"Eight O.W.L.s!" cried Mrs. Weasley, taking her daughter's results as Harry handed them to her. "Oh, sweetheart, I am so proud of you."

Nothing exciting happened over the next few days. The night of the thirtieth was soon upon them. Harry went to bed with no thoughts of what the next day would bring. At midnight, however, he opened his eyes suddenly. A strange sensation was filling him and he couldn't quite figure out where it was coming from. He felt pain in his left hand and he grunted. It intensified quickly to such a point that it was unbearable. Harry screamed in agony, which woke Ron.

"Harry, are you okay?" he shouted over Harry's painful yell.

A golden light suddenly filled the room, blinding both boys. The pain in Harry's hand faded a little, as though something had finally been released. Now it just stung, like he had been branded or, worse, like he'd used Umbridge's evil quill again.

When the light finally disappeared, Harry and Ron looked at each other in shock. "What the bloody hell was that?" said Ron in a shaky voice.

Harry shook his head. "I dunno, but it seems to have stopped now," he responded.

They were silent for a moment. Then Ron remembered that Harry had been screaming. "Hey, what happened? What made you scream like that?" he said.

"My hand hurt," he said, looking down at it.

Harry's eyes widened in shock. There, on the back of his left hand, was a symbol that looked like three golden triangles, two on the bottom and one on the top, all three attached to each other at their tips. He tried to rub it off, but remained.

"Ron, look at this," said Harry. He held his hand up to Ron's eyes.

Ron looked at it for a minute before saying anything. "Cool, it looks almost like a tattoo, but…" He looked up at Harry, a confused look on his face. "How did it appear?"

"I don't know," said Harry, just as confused as his best friend was. He laid back down, staring at the golden triangles on his hand.

***

Harry woke up a few minutes before eight o'clock the next morning. He looked at the back of his hand, but found that the golden triangles were gone. _It must have happened during the night_, Harry thought. It took him a moment to remember that it was his seventeenth birthday. He took the time to reflect upon what that meant. He was now considered an adult in the eyes of the Ministry. He was able to do magic outside of school as long as it wasn't in the presence of a Muggle.

Most importantly of all, however, was that the protection his mother's blood could give him no longer worked. Voldemort could track him, even now, and find out where he was staying. Now that he had come of age, it was not just he, Harry, who was at risk. Voldemort would stop at nothing. All the people who were around him, friends and Order members alike… from that moment on, no one was safe.

Harry gazed at Ron's bed and found the redhead was still fast asleep. He decided to get up and get dressed. As he finished pulling on his shirt, Ron woke up and looked up at him.

"Morning," said Harry.

"You're up early, considering what happened last night," mumbled Ron.

Harry looked at the clock. "It's after eight," he said.

Ron gazed at the clock, then out the window. "Oh. Thought it was six." He got up and got dressed. Harry waited for him. As soon as he was finished, Ron opened the door and left the bedroom. Harry followed him, slightly bewildered. Ron would normally have wished Harry a "Happy birthday!" by now, but he hadn't. Harry shrugged it off. Perhaps Ron was still half asleep.

Harry followed Ron all the way down to the kitchen. The rest of the family and Hermione were there all ready, sitting down to breakfast. The only one absent was Mr. Weasley, who Harry guessed was probably at work.

"Good morning," said Hermione. She had the _Daily Prophet_ in one hand and her fork in the other. Ginny looked up from her conversation with Charlie and smiled warmly at Harry.

"Hey. Anyone we know die?" asked Ron as he went to sit down next to her.

Ginny got up and crossed over to where Harry was standing, getting ready to sit down. She wrapped her arms around him and whispered into his ear, "Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Gin," said Harry. Ginny returned to her seat and Harry sat down next to Ron.

"So Mum, what's up for today?" asked Charlie between bites of bacon.

"Nothing, dear. Why?"

Harry's stomach gave an unpleasant jolt. Since when did Mrs. Weasley not make a huge fuss over his birthday? It was almost as if… no, that was impossible.

Charlie shrugged. "Oh, no reason, really. I was just curious."

"We could go play a few games of Quidditch. What do you think, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry gave him a weak grin. How was it possible that Ron was looking right at him and still had yet to wish him a birthday greeting? "I guess," he said softly.

"Ron, don't you think you should go over your Apparition technique? The test _is _tomorrow," said Hermione pointedly.

Ron turned to look at her. "You really are a kill-joy."

"And you're still having trouble appearing where you're supposed to," responded Hermione.

"Know what that's like. That's how I failed the first time," said Charlie with a sympathetic grin.

"Hermione does have a point, Ron. You don't want to fail the test again," said Mrs. Weasley, placing toast on the table now.

Ron glowered at his mother angrily. Hermione shook her head, turning to look at Harry.

A soft chime and white lights announced the arrival of Ivy Wilder. She was wearing a plaid skirt and an ivory shirt this time, and looked very harassed. "Hey, everyone," she announced.

"Morning, Ivy," said Ron, looking up at her. "What's going on?"

"I just need to give you a heads up. Your Window of Opportunity has opened," Ivy said to Ron.

Mrs. Weasley and Charlie looked slightly alarmed. Hermione's head turned to her in interest. Ginny's eyes widened. Ron's expression turned thoughtful. In fact, the only one who didn't seem to understand was Harry.

"I think you know pretty well what that means," continued Ivy, her eyes shifting to her watch. "So I can just give you a quick briefing, considering I'm all ready a day late. You're to consider your options very carefully over the next forty-eight – well, twenty-four – hours. Look out for those who might try to tempt you. Someone may come offering friendship, praise, love… whatever you find attractive. Beware of anyone trying to get close to you, anyone who seems drawn to you, and anyone you feel drawn to." She sighed and brushed her hair out of her face. "Now, I am all ready late for my date with Gabriel, so if you don't have any questions --"

"Wow, you really love taking the shortcut, don't you?" said Charlie, looking at his mother. Mrs. Weasley's lips were pursed and her eyes flashed like they so often did whenever Harry mentioned the Dursleys.

Ivy chose to ignore him. "I shall see you this time tomorrow and no sooner," she said and orbed away.

Everyone returned to what they were doing before she came. Once it was clear that no one was about to mention what Ivy had meant by the Window of Opportunity, Harry decided to ask. He had just opened his mouth when there was a loud POP! and everyone looked around.

Bill and Fleur were standing in the middle of the kitchen. "Hey, everyone!" said Bill with a huge grin.

Everyone started talking at once. Mrs. Weasley went right over and pulled her eldest son into a warm embrace before moving on to her daughter-in-law. Charlie and Ron went to shake their brother's hand, then hug their new sister-in-law (which made Hermione and Ginny scowl). Harry had half expected Bill and Fleur to mention his birthday as the reason they had returned early from their honeymoon, but neither of them paid him much attention after their initial greeting. In fact, the entire group seemed to be ignoring him now.

"So, how was it?" asked Charlie finally.

"Beautiful," said Bill immediately.

"Oui. Ze Riviera is always wonderful at zis time of year," agreed Fleur.

"We didn't get a chance to see the Riviera when my family visited France a few years ago," said Hermione.

"Don't worry, Hermione," said Bill with a laugh. "We've got pictures."

"And you 'ave to see ze new robes I got, Molly. I theenk you might like them," said Fleur excitedly.

Harry was starting to get frustrated with all of this by now. He turned to Ron, who had just accepted a picture that Bill had passed him. "I'm just going to feed Hedwig," he said pointedly. Ron would know that it was a lie. Harry had sent her out the night before with a letter to Lupin and Ron had been in the room at the time.

"Okay…" said Ron distractedly and without looking up from the picture.

Harry fought to suppress a growl, but it was very close and he knew that his face had to be contorted with rage. He stood up and stormed out of the room. He ran up the stairs to the attic room where Ron's bedroom was located. He opened his trunk and started looking for his Firebolt, the first present that he had ever received from Sirius. As soon as he found it, Harry went out of the room and back down stairs. Harry looked back into the kitchen. No one had moved. In fact, no one had noticed that he had left the room. Furious and hurt, Harry forcefully opened the back door and went outside, slamming the door behind him.

***

Harry spent the next few hours flying over the small paddock that they would usually play Quidditch on. He was hungry, not having eaten any breakfast, but he had no desire to return to the house. He felt very hurt and confused. Ron and Hermione, his two best friends, had forgotten all about his birthday. How could they do that to him? Why had only Ginny remembered?

Harry landed on the ground again and got off his broom. He sat down on the grass and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He was thoroughly miserable and could feel depression starting to take over him.

"Oi, birthday boy! What're you doing out here all alone?"

Harry turned to the new voice. It was Fred and George, who had obviously just returned home from the shop. He didn't smile at them and turned away from them once more. "Hey, Fred. Hey, George."

The twins plopped down on either side of him. "Are you okay? You seem down," said George.

Harry sighed heavily. He really wasn't in the mood for company. "I don't know," he lied.

"Hey, cheer up, mate. It's your seventeenth birthday! You're finally of age!" said Fred happily, clapping him on the shoulder.

Harry turned to him, grateful. At least they hadn't forgotten about him. "You remembered about my birthday?"

"Of course we did," said George.

"Yeah, friends don't forget each other's birthdays," said Fred.

Harry frowned. Friends don't forget, huh? Then did that mean Ron and Hermione were no longer his friends, as he had feared since the summer began? He turned away from the twins. "Well, then, I guess my list of friends has only you two and Ginny on it. It would explain why everybody else forgot," he said aloud, not really caring if Fred and George heard this or not.

"You're kidding?!" Fred seemed surprised. "Even Ron and Hermione?"

"Yes, and what's worse is that they completely ignored me once Bill and Fleur showed up," said Harry, failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"They're back all ready? I thought they were going to be gone for another four days," said George.

"Well, they're back early."

Harry didn't fail to miss Fred and George looking at each other. They seemed a bit uneasy about something.

"Well, here's an idea. One of us'll go get Ginny and we'll throw a party right here," said George brightly.

A party with the twins and Ginny… well, it wasn't much, but it would at least be better than nothing. Until…

"George! Have you forgotten?" asked Fred sharply.

"Oh, right. We only came to wish you happy birthday and grab some supplies. We're really busy at the store," said George apologetically.

"Maybe if we get done on time, we'll stop by again tonight," said Fred as he got to his feet. "We'll see you soon, Harry."

George stood up and said, "Yeah, see you later!"

"Bye," said Harry dejectedly as he watched the twins head back towards the house. In that moment, he had never felt so alone.

Harry had no clue how long he sat there, staring at the grass around him. It must have been lunch time by now. He remembered a letter that he had heard on the talk radio station at the beginning of the summer. _Everything around me seems strange and foreign as if it comes from another dimension, another world. I find myself unable to accept the people and things that are right in front of me._ That was the passage that he had remembered because at the time, he could relate to it. The summer had been going better after he'd returned from the Muggle hospital, but now… it was suddenly true once again.

He was alone. All alone.

But he didn't want to be alone.

He heard a noise from behind him. Harry looked around and saw that it was just Ginny. She had changed since breakfast and was now wearing a sparkly ruby halter top, a black leather mini-skirt, and black heeled ankle boots. Around her neck she wore a golden sun charm. A piece of the center was missing from it, a piece that looked like a quarter moon.

"Wow," said Harry, staring at her.

"You like?" asked Ginny, twirling slightly on the spot.

Harry stood up so she wouldn't have to sit down. "You look… so beautiful."

"Thank you," she said with a smile. "Harry --" Ginny held out a small black silk-covered case. "Happy birthday."

Harry grinned as he took his first, and apparently only, present from her. He opened up the warm box. Supine on red satin, glinting in the sunlight, was a necklace, a thin white gold chain that held a gleaming crescent moon charm.

"This looks expensive," said Harry uneasily. The Weasley family didn't have that much money to begin with. Besides, he didn't want Ginny spending this much on him.

"My Uncle Anthony made it, along with this," said Ginny, fingering her own golden sun. "It was the last present he gave me right before he died."

Harry took the charm out of the box and held it in his hand. It started to grow warm in his palm.

"He told me that they were part of a whole," Ginny continued. "I was to keep one and give the other one to the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with."

Harry was surprised to hear her say this, but very pleased. He lifted his charm up and held it to the moon-shaped hole in her sun. The two charms linked together, forming a completed circle.

"Almost like soul mates, huh?" said Harry in a quiet voice.

"Exactly," said Ginny, her cheeks turning pink.

Harry disconnected the two charms once again. Ginny gently lifted the necklace from Harry's hand and fastened it around his neck. "I thought, since you told me last May that you were born exactly at midnight, that you'd like the moon. And since I was born at noon, I figured that I'd keep the sun," she explained.

"It is kind of ironic, us both being born at twelve o'clock, just at different times of the day," said Harry.

Ginny brushed her hand against his cheek softly. "I do love you, Harry," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Harry smiled and pulled her close, giving her a soft kiss. _I love you, too, Ginny._ Harry never said these words aloud, though. He couldn't. Not since –

"We should probably head back. They'll wonder where we've gone," said Ginny suddenly, pulling away.

"You mean they'll wonder where you've gone. No one's even remembered today's my birthday," said Harry sadly, turning away from the youngest Weasley.

"Oh, forget it. We'll go out to dinner, just the two of us. But for now, let's go back to the house," said Ginny insistently.

Harry agreed and they started back. But with every step they took that lead them back closer to the Burrow, Harry's hurt feelings returned to him full force. Ron and Hermione were supposed to be his friends. They were supposed to care about his feelings. They were supposed to remember special occasions, like his birthday. They weren't supposed to ignore him. It was as though they really weren't his friends any more.

_Lost love will never come back, so just give in and hate everyone you know._

Strange, thought Harry, how much that last thought had sounded like a woman's voice and not his.

Some of his sadness must have shown on his face, because Ginny asked, "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'd be a bit happier if at least Ron and Hermione hadn't forgotten," said Harry in a defeated voice.

"I know. It's really not like them, is it?" said Ginny softly.

"Should have expected it, though. I mean, they didn't believe me when I said Malfoy was up to no good. Sure, they got you, Neville, and Luna to help them guard Malfoy and Snape, but they must have only done it half-heartedly," said Harry, finally voicing his theory for the first time since Dumbledore's death that night.

"Oh, come on, Harry," said Ginny. "I admit, they were a little hesitant when they were telling us, but it could have been because they expected more D.A. members to come."

Harry scoffed. "I doubt that was the reason, Ginny. Ron and Hermione were skeptical from the very beginning. I _knew_ that necklace had come from Malfoy, but they didn't believe me. My best friends didn't believe me. All they cared about was the drama going on in their own lives."

Ginny groaned. "I know what you mean," she said. "They so like each other, it's not even funny anymore."

"Yeah, and I always end up in the middle. I'm really getting sick of it," muttered Harry. Ginny grabbed his hand sympathetically, but she didn't say anything. "Ginny, what if I'm right? What if they were just... pretending to be my friends all these years?"

"Of course not! You know that's not true!" said Ginny, sounding very alarmed.

"But if it is… if they really aren't my friends… I've had to deal with a lot in my life, but… I don't think I can handle that…" Harry admitted, fighting back tears. Ginny squeezed his hand.

Silence fell between them. They were now approaching the Burrow. Just looking at it made Harry's heart ache. He really didn't want to have to face them again. No one in there would even look at him. They'd probably be too busy with Bill and Fleur.

"Ginny," he said, stopping her, "I really don't want to go in there. Let's just go."

"Okay, I need to grab some money first. It won't take long. You don't have to come in if you don't want to," said Ginny pleadingly.

Harry sighed. "All right."

They went over to the door into the house. Ginny grabbed it and turned it, but it wouldn't open. She tried again and it still didn't open. "Damn. It's stuck again," she cursed.

"Let me," said Harry. He grabbed the handle and turned the knob while forcing his body against the door at the same time. The door opened quite easily.

"SURPRISE!"

The entire living room was decorated in red streamers and gold balloons. A huge scarlet banner read "Happy Seventeenth Birthday!" in golden, shimmering letters The entire Weasley family, Hermione, and many members of the Order of the Phoenix, including Tonks, Lupin, and Mad Eye Moody, were there, laughing and applauding.

Harry stood quite still, having jumped and reached for his wand in sheer instinct. He felt as though he was having a panic attack. His heart was pounding in his throat and he was short of breath. He was rendered speechless. Ginny had wrapped her arms around him in a hug and Harry was sure that she was the only thing holding him up.

Ron and Hermione went right over to him and pulled him further into the living room so Ginny could close the door. Hermione hugged him immediately. "Happy birthday, Harry."

Ron clapped him on the back, saying, "Yeah, mate. Happy seventeenth."

"You – you really didn't have to do this… I mean, go to all this trouble…" said Harry breathlessly, still trembling in shock.

"Nonsense, Harry. It was no trouble at all," said Mrs. Weasley warmly.

"I… I thought you'd forgotten," Harry said sheepishly.

Charlie laughed. "Yeah, Fred and George told us about that," he said.

"That wasn't part of the plan, Harry," explained Hermione. "Ginny was supposed to take you away from the house for a couple of hours while we set up. We never intended to make it seem like we forgot. Ivy orbed in right when I was about to mention it. And then, of course, Bill and Fleur showed up, so that further drove it from my mind."

"Yeah, sorry about that," said Bill.

"Bill, it wasn't your fault," said Mr. Weasley.

"Yeah, if Ron had said something before he and Harry came down to breakfast, then it wouldn't have happened," said Ginny, glaring at her brother.

"I wasn't thinking of it, all right? Sue me!" said Ron angrily as the large group broke up and started talking amongst themselves.

"So when you two said you had to get back to work --?" said Harry, turning to Fred and George.

"We were really on our way here," said George. "Ron and Hermione had the whole thing planned out for weeks!"

"Yeah, and George almost blew it," said Fred.

"Not as badly as Ron did this morning," said George.

"Shut up!" Ron muttered.

"You really thought we forgot?" asked Hermione.

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "Well… yeah…"

"Harry, you know we'd never do that to you," said Ron. "We wanted your birthday to be special this year."

"So you decided to scare me half to death?" asked Harry in mock skepticism.

"I knew you'd never had this huge of a party before, so I thought it'd be a good idea," explained Hermione.

"And the look on your face was priceless," said Ron, which caused them all to laugh, even Harry.

Everyone came over to him over the course of the first half hour to wish him a happy birthday. There were many people there that he knew from the Order besides Lupin, Tonks, and Moody. It was a good feeling, to know that they all cared about him. How could he ever have doubted them?

About two hours after the party began, Mrs. Weasley told Harry that he should probably open his birthday presents. Harry agreed and everyone settled down to watch. When he first saw the pile of presents, he couldn't believe they were all his. He had never received so many presents in his life! He couldn't help trembling as he opened the first one, which was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They had given him four brand new shirts, one red, one blue, one black, and one green.

Charlie had given him a book called _The Dragonology Handbook: A Practical Course in Dragons_ by Ernest Drake. Fred and George had given him a gift basket filled with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes merchandise. Bill and Fleur had given him a box of French sweets. Tonks had given him a wooden box of precious stones. Neville Longbottom had owled him two potted plants, violets and roses. Luna Lovegood had owled him a phoenix feather quill, which Hermione said was very rare. The next package he picked up was from Kreacher the house-elf, but Harry remembered well the maggots he had received for Christmas and didn't bother to open it, much to Hermione's disapproval.

Hagrid's present was next. He had sent Harry a box of his home-made fudge, which wasn't actually that bad. His Whitelighter, Chris, had sent him a complete set of colored sands. In his letter, he said that he would need them in the future. Lupin had given him a working model of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch.

"It was James'. He left it with me right before the three of you went into hiding just… just in case…" Lupin told him, finishing the sentence with a quiet voice.

Ron's present was a book called _The Encyclopedia of Broomsticks_. Hermione's gift was a scarlet notebook. Little by little, the pile began to dwindle down. Finally, Harry came upon the last present. It was by far the most elegant, wrapped in black paper with scarlet and gold ribbons. But strangely, there was no card or anything attached to it. Confused, Harry unwrapped it slowly and suddenly noticed a soft ethereal glow coming from inside the package. He reached into the hole he'd made and pulled out a crown-shaped amulet attached to a simple gold chain. It was inscribed with the most interesting design: on the left side was a dragon breathing fire and on the right side was a male lion roaring, both images being intertwined from the center by what looked like antlers.

"I don't believe it," breathed Lupin, moving to be next to Harry so he could look at the amulet over his shoulder.

"What is it?" asked Harry, looking up at him.

Lupin looked as though he was seeing a ghost. His face was extremely pale and his eyes were wide. "I haven't seen this since…"

"Since when?" asked Harry, wondering how this little amulet could make Lupin so scared.

Lupin swallowed and looked Harry in the eyes. "…since it was placed inside your father's coffin."

The room was filled with a tense, stunned silence. Harry nearly dropped the amulet in shock. "Wh… wha… what?" he finally said weakly.

"But there must be some sort of mistake," Tonks whispered. "There's no way it could be the same one."

"There's no question about it. I put it in there myself." Lupin definitely sounded unnerved.

"Then we should probably take it and run some tests," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, looking around at the other members of the Order. "Just to be sure that this is the real thing."

"There's an easier way to tell," said Lupin. "Harry, when you opened the package, did you notice anything strange?"

"Well, there was the light that came from it as I was opening it," said Harry. He couldn't have been the only one that saw it, though, when the glow had been so bright against the dark package.

"I didn't see anything like that," said Ron in confusion.

"You wouldn't. This is a very powerful amulet with many secrets," said Lupin. "James told us that it was an old tradition in the family that when the eldest boy turned seventeen, his father would give him the amulet wrapped just like this. Upon opening it, an ethereal glow would emulate from the package. According to James, the only ones who could see the glow were those with Potter blood. Obviously, Harry is the only member of the family in the room."

"So then how did it get out of that coffin?" growled Moody, eying the amulet with great suspicion.

"That's a good question," said Mr. Weasley.

"There's no card," said Harry as Ron reached out for the chain.

"This is so – OW!" Ron pulled his hand away quickly, making everyone jump. Lupin went right over to Ron and pulled his hand out. Burned into his palm was the outline of the chain, as if he had been branded.

"Oh, my God!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, rushing forward to look at her son's damaged hand. Lupin pulled out his wand and tried to perform a healing charm, but it didn't work.

Staring at the burn in Ron's hand seem to trigger something deep within Harry. As though in a haze, he knelt down before Ron. He slowly reached out to touch the wound in the redhead's hand and a pink light shone briefly from the tips of his finders. Instantly, the mark faded and healed.

Ron looked up at Harry. "How'd you know how to do that?" he asked in awe.

Harry blinked. "I don't know," he answered softly. He felt very lightheaded, almost as though he had woken up from a very deep sleep.

"Instinct. He's a Potter, so he probably knows most of the family's secrets without having to be told," said Lupin, watching Harry in concern. "I should have warned you beforehand, my mistake. Only members of the Potter family can hold that amulet. Harry has to physically hand it to you. Jackson Potter created this particular curse to protect it from being stolen."

"Are you okay, Harry?" asked Hermione, noticing how pale he seemed.

"I'm fine," said Harry reassuringly.

Dinner that night was spectacular. Mrs. Weasley had cooked a wonderful feast that could have easily been compared to one of Hogwarts School's. Even dessert was amazing. Mrs. Weasley baked a huge chocolate birthday cake and everyone _actually_ sang "Happy Birthday," marking it as the first time that Harry didn't have to sing it to himself. He only just managed to stop himself from crying.

"Hey, come on, Harry. Let's check out that Quidditch model," said Ron as dessert was winding down.

"Yeah, okay," said Harry happily. He and Ron stood up together.

Agonizing pain in his head… impenetrable darkness…

_He was standing on a field of grass in the middle of the night. Gazing behind him, he saw the lights of a village that seemed to be close by. There was a gentle breeze and the trees near by were very colorful. It had to be mid-fall._

_Suddenly, there was a loud crack that pierced the silence. A cloaked figure was now standing in the middle of the field. His face was covered by the darkness, but Harry could see his gleaming red eyes shining out and he gasped audibly._

_It was Lord Voldemort._

_What's going on? asked Harry silently._

_Voldemort's thin lips smiled cruelly as he stared straight ahead of him. His grin widened and he cackled softly. Turning, Harry saw why. A grand manor had suddenly appeared behind black gates. Voldemort pushed the gates open and started up the cobblestone path. Not knowing what else to do, Harry quickly followed him. He went around the circular cobblestone path, which had grass all around it and a flower bed in the center of the path. As they went, voices carried from out the open windows._

_"Daddy!"_

_"James, I need your help."_

_"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off --"_

_"No, I'm not leaving you!"_

_"Lily, go!"_

_Harry stopped dead just before the stone steps that Voldemort started to climb. No… it wasn't possible…_

_Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at the double doors. "Confringo!" The doors were blasted off their hinges and into the room beyond. Voldemort stepped inside. Harry wanted to turn away, to leave, but he couldn't… He had to know…_

_He ran up the cobblestone stairs and walked into the house. He had entered a beautiful foyer. The doors had crashed onto a marble table in the center of the room, which now lay in shattered pieces over the mahogany floor. Voldemort was facing the owner of the house, who was standing in front of the staircase to the left of the entrance. The owner was a man in his early twenties. He had hazel eyes, untidy black hair, and wore glasses. Harry recognized him instantly and his stomach cringed._

_"So… I see you told your wife to run," said Voldemort conversationally. "You shouldn't have worried. It's not her I'm after."_

_"I know perfectly well who you're after. And I know why you want us," said James Potter, anger evident in his voice. "I don't care what it takes, I won't let you kill him."_

_"You won't be able to protect him after tonight, Potter. I will find your son eventually," promised Voldemort._

_"If you want Harry, you'll have to go through me first," said James, pulling out his wand with his right hand._

_"Come, James, let's not be too hasty about this. We can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way," said Voldemort without flinching. "Now, what is delaying the inevitable going to prove? I'm just going to track him down anyway and then your death will be in vain. So just bring your son to me and, at the very least, your wife will live. As a bonus, I'll make your death, as well as your son's, quick and painless."_

_James' face contorted in rage. "Never," he growled angrily._

_Suddenly, Voldemort was struck by several bolts of lightning. Harry jumped in shock. What sort of spell did James just do? When the lightning vanished, Voldemort looked unphased._

_"Why do they always want to do it the hard way?" he sighed to himself as he removed his wand. "Crucio!"_

_James skillfully dodged the curse and it crashed into the wall behind him. He raised his wand once more and a red beam of light shot out of the tip of it. Voldemort lazily produced a shield that sent the curse crashing into a door nearby._

_"Avada Kedavra!" cried Voldemort. There was a flash of green light and a rushing sound. Harry screamed aloud as the attack made contact, forcing James to crash onto the broken front doors. A second later, something above them snap and the next second, a chandelier came crashing down on top of James. He didn't get up as blood seeped around him._

_Voldemort grimaced. "Oh, I did not mean to do that," he said._

_"James?"_

_Harry and Voldemort turned as a woman in her early twenties appeared at the top of the upstairs hall, looking over the second floor railing down into the foyer. She had dark red hair tied into a ponytail by a blue ribbon and startling green eyes. Harry gazed at her in wonder, watching her as she gasped and ran down the stairs to kneel beside her fallen husband. She began to weep uncontrollably as Voldemort, grinning, started up the stairs._

_Harry didn't want to lose track of Voldemort was doing, but he couldn't leave his mother. He ran up the stairs after Voldemort, but didn't follow him to the right hallway. He stayed on the second floor of the foyer, watching both his mother and the man who had just murdered his father._

_Voldemort opened the first door. "Here, baby, baby, baby," he called into the room, as though he was calling a favorite pet. "Come on, where are you?"_

_Downstairs, Lily stopped crying. It was as though she had heard him. But no, she couldn't have… he was too far away…_

_Voldemort went around the corner and Harry had to move closer to keep an eye on what he was doing. Voldemort had moved on to a second door and opened it. "Here, baby, baby, baby," he called out again._

_Harry looked back downstairs to see what his mother was doing._

_"Harry…" Lily whispered, looking back upstairs. She Disapparated and Harry knew where she had gone. He hurried off down the hall after Voldemort._

_Voldemort had just opened the third door when the first door on the left opened. Lily looked out into the hall, one hand on the door and holding a baby with bright green eyes covered by untidy black hair in her other arm. One-year-old Harry smiled and quickly buried his head into her shoulder, like he was being shy._

_Lily was obviously surprised to see Voldemort looking directly at her because she screamed and slammed the door shut. Voldemort went to advance on her when there was another crack. Harry breathed in sharply, hardly daring to believe it._

_James was standing before the door, weak and barely recognizable due to the hideous gashes on his once handsome face, but definitely alive._

_"Potter!" Voldemort gasped, obviously as stunned as Harry was._

_But thinking back, Harry realized that the Killing Curse hadn't struck his father at all. It had hit the banister. James must have been thrown forward by it's force._

_"Well, no matter," hissed Voldemort, pointing his wand directly at James' heart. "Avada Kedavra!"_

_There was no mistake about it this time. James was definitely struck. He crashed into the door Lily and their son had just disappeared behind, collapsing to the ground. He was dead…_

_Harry was beginning to feel sick… he didn't want to see anymore…_

_Voldemort blasted the door beyond James with the same spell he had used to blast open the front door. Stepping over James' body, he stepped into the room beyond. Against his better judgment, Harry went in after him._

_Lily was standing before the crib, trembling. Baby Harry was no where in sight. He didn't seem to be in the nursery at all. Voldemort approached the young widow anyway._

_"Stand aside," he demanded._

_"No," whispered Lily, shaking her head as tears formed in her eyes._

_"Get out of my way now!"_

_"Please, no!" Lily began to cry now. "You've all ready taken my husband from me. Isn't that enough?"_

_"I'm not going to say it again, woman!" Voldemort was getting angry._

_"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please – I'll do anything --"_

_"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!"_

_"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_"Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…"_

_"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead --"_

_"I don't want you, Mudblood! Now get out of my way or else I'll force you!"_

_"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"_

_"That does it." Voldemort brandished his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"_

_Harry watched in horror as his mother screamed. Lily's lifeless body collapsed over the side of the crib, her dark red hair falling over a lump under the lavender baby blanket with the golden triangles stitched into it._

_Harry could feel tears falling rapidly down his cheeks. _Mum…_ he whispered. No…_

_"NO!"_

Harry bolted upright, staring wildly into the darkness. For a moment, he was very confused. What was going on? Where was he? What had happened to Voldemort?

There was someone scrambling nearby. "_Lumos,_" said a voice and a wand tip flared up. In the dim light that came from it, Harry could see that the owner of the voice had red hair and a very freckly face.

"Harry?" asked Ron, a mixture of concern and fear on his face.

"Ron…" said Harry, panting. "Wha – what's going on? Where are we?"

"It's okay. We're in my room. It's after midnight," Ron said.

Harry started to calm down, but it wasn't by much. It was clear now that he had been dreaming, possibly even remembering. But what had brought that on? He tried to think back to earlier that night and found that the last memory he had was dinner earlier that evening.

"Wha -- what ha -- happened?" he asked, his voice shaking beyond his control.

"You passed out. Right after dinner," said Ron, getting up and sitting down on Harry's cot. "I barely had time to catch you before you hit the ground." He studied his friend for a moment. "You're shaking."

Harry had just realized this himself. "I'm fine," he lied, turning his head away from Ron as he began to think.

The pain in his head before the darkness hit… it had come from his scar. That explained where the dream came from. Voldemort had sent Harry his memory of the night, probably trying to put him on edge.

He succeeded.

"Did you see him again?" asked Ron.

"Huh?" Harry asked distractedly.

"We know it was your scar that made you collapse. Whenever one of us touched it, you'd whimper," said Ron, still looking at Harry carefully. "Did you have another vision of what You-Know-Who was up to?"

"No, it wasn't the present this time. It was the past… one of his memories." Harry wanted to leave it at that, but he knew Ron wouldn't let it go, so he reluctantly added, "The night he killed my parents."

Ron's mouth fell open. "Oh my God… Harry --"

"Look, I really don't want to talk about it. Can we just drop it?" asked Harry, laying back down on his side and closing his eyes.

"Yeah, okay," said Ron quietly. "But if you change your mind, just wake me up."

Harry didn't respond. He pretended to have fallen asleep all ready. Ron sighed and put his hand on Harry's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. Harry felt Ron's weight leave the cot and heard him getting back into bed, dimming his wand light. He could feel Ron's eyes on him and so didn't dare open his eyes again. He slipped into a fitful sleep, sinking deep into nightmares filled by high, cold cackling, a woman's screaming, mahogany wood and blood, and a bright green light.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, what'd ya think so far? I really tried to stay true to JK Rowling's style.

Also, my version of Lily and James' deaths were based on nothing I've read. This is just my take. I threw in the chandelier landing on James at the last minute, just to add a little bit of suspense.


End file.
